Prologue

A piercing scream rang out in the distance. Yes, it may have been mid-afternoon, the sun burning brightly… no sense of danger surrounding me, but then again, I haven’t gotten used to my new powers yet. I hadn’t felt the presence that was beginning to surround me and my family. I began to run towards the sound. It was still audible, but not out loud, I realised. The scream was in my head. Its resonating sound still lingered in my mind, aching, pressing down into me. Hurting…..Stop!

The pain vanished…as did the lasting sound of the shriek. Sudden silence…If anything, it was more disorientating than the noise. I stopped running to breathe. I came to realise….there was no noise at all. No birds, no wind blowing. The children in the park opposite: completely noiseless and still, as if they were but a snapshot of the moment before.

I shivered. Something was terribly wrong. It was like a cold hand was caressing my back….trying to seem innocent, but not quite managing it. Whoever this was they were strong, but not quite strong enough to conceal themselves completely, even to me, a newcomer to her powers. Either that or they were new too, and hadn’t gotten the control.

A noise broke through the silence. A shuffling sound. It was getting louder, but I wasn’t sure whether I should find somewhere to hide, or face it head-on. My courage gave out. I couldn’t stand to meet whatever it was coming towards me. I turned, scanned around me. The only place I could see to hide was on the other side of the street…

Could I make it?

Chapter 1

My name is Effie. Well, ok, it’s Elizabeth…but who wants to introduce themselves as that?? It’s a bit of a mouthful! ‘Effie’ came about as my dad let me go camping with my school….they had to get him to come collect me after only a few hours. I may have set light to the teachers’ tent…whoops. Since then, he’s called me his ‘fair flame’. Well, that was a long time ago now. Too long.

So, I’m Effie, I’m 22 years old, and I am a witch. Not a particularly strong one, mind you. Not yet anyway. I hope to get more powerful, but there is a limit to each person’s ability. But I want to be the best I can. That’s every witch’s aim.

I only found out about my ability a year or so ago; my dad had tried to keep it hidden from me. I understand it now, but I didn’t then.

Well, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?


My 21st birthday approached, and that’s when things started to go really weird.

I awoke that morning with a feeling of trepidation. As though I knew that something wasn’t right…..I was spooked. I sat up in my bed. Shot straight up, having momentarily forgotten that my bed was on the sloping wall, so I grazed my head across it.

I padded my way to the bathroom, trying to convince myself there was nothing wrong, I was just being silly, but I couldn’t get the feeling to leave me.

I walked into the room, the cold tile floors aiding in waking me up. I look up at the mirror and gasp. My eyes, they were purple, not the bright violet purple, but the purple of the sky with an oncoming storm….dark, and yet, still bright.

I just stood, staring blankly at my face. They were a nondescript blue when I had gone to bed the night before, nothing remarkable. But now? Amazing.

‘Effie? Effie?!’

My dad had come through the door.

‘I’m sorry Effie, I didn’t want you to find out like this, not without me being at your side as you saw your flames’

‘…My….flames?’ I croaked out, as though my voice had been unused for many days ‘Flames?’

I dragged my gaze away from my reflection as my dad lifted my hand carefully, as though trying not to startle me.

‘Woah….what the hell is going on?? I’m on fire!
I’m…on…FIRE!’

I looked at my dad. He was smiling at me, as though proud. Proud? I was just completely thrown by this turn of events….what was happening to me?

I looked back to the flames dancing on my skin. These were also purple, as my eyes were now, but these were bright. As if violets had been captured and turned into fire. They didn't burn...just left a slight tingling sensation where they licked.

He had now begun to murmur in the background.

‘She has purple flames….what does that indicate? I’ve never seen purple before…does that mean she’s strong or weak? …or something completely, entirely new?’

'Dad?'

'Hmmm?'

'DAD? Look at me! What is happening to me??'

He was still just staring at me, his gaze grazing my hands, my face, studying.

‘Well….I guess I should’ve told you many years ago….My family? The ones you don’t see, well, the reason you don’t see them is that…’ He trails off…

‘Dad! Come on….tell me, then tell me if you know how to turn these damn flames off! I look like a Christmas pudding here, all lit up like this!’

‘So you do!' he laughs 'Ok, my family are all magical. Some are witches – like you, some are shifters, some are psychic, and a few are even…’ His abrupt stop has me panicked. It doesn’t even register that he’s just called me a witch…

‘A what Dad? Some are what??’

‘You don’t need to know right now. We’ll get to that at some point. Right then my Fair Flame, how do you feel about this?’

'I am a...witch?'

'Yup!' THe smug look on his face seemed to get worse, if it was even possible.

‘Ok…a witch. That doesn’t seem so bad…but will I stay all flamey for the rest of my life?!’

He chuckles. ‘No, of course not. You just gotta learn. And you will, soon. We’ll be on our way soon. Go get - ’

A loud crash interrupts his sentence. He freezes. Looks at me. His jovial behaviour has now disappeared, replaced with anxiety, and what I think is fear. I’d never seen that look on his face before, nor ever since.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. My father was frozen..not even a flicker of recognition as I frantically waves my hands in front of his face. I slapped him. He didn’t move, not at all. His flesh upon the palm of my hand was as hard as stone, but with a waxy feel. Was this to be first impression of magic?

The footfalls were getting louder. I began to shout at my dad. ….but nothing, no reaction. I then hear talking from outside my bedroom door.

‘Shhh….can you hear that? She’s awake! How? She should be down. Ok, you know what you need to do then, right?’

A grunt was all I heard from the second man that was violating my house, my home.
‘On my count…3…2….1…NOW!’

I scream.

Chapter 2

I drift in and out of consciousness, catching some speech from my captors. Most of it makes no sense at all, but some strangely does.

‘Why do you think she stayed awake? And how much does she know about….Well, I have no idea what she’ll think of her…who can tell? Strange….We ought to check up on…But what about…Phoras’ family will…What if? What if she wakes before we get there? Don’t worry…She couldn’t possibly…No. No way is that feasible that she is….I think that Jimmy’s the best one…Hey! Was that….’

I wake in my

comfy bed, covered with my

thick and warm duvet. I stretch, and look around, waking as if from a dream. But as I view my surroundings, I notice that that my bed is the only thing that is mine. The rest of the room is filled with clinical plastics, and cold, cold steel.

I find myself not in my own clothes anymore, but now in a hospital gown, with IV drips linked to my left arm. The liquid is a strange blue colour. I wonder what it contains. But I slide these out, tearing off the sticky tape holding them in place. The needles emerge red and bloody; the liquid that was forcing its way into my veins leaking out onto the floor. Now that I’m free of the restraints of the tubes, I stand to look around.

The first thing I notice is that beside my bed is a huge mirror. I know they’re watching me. I can feel their eyes; hear their pencils scratching the paper upon which they’re writing on. Wait, I can hear

them writing

?? I shake my head, clearing it of such idiocy. I turn back, finishing my exploration of my surroundings. I become aware of a camera positioned by the door. I wonder why they need a camera, as well as the one-way-mirror. Surely they’d have me being watched all the time, if they made the effort to take me away from my dad and my home. Apart from the camera, and my bed…there’s nothing.

I shiver.

‘Elizabeth.’ I start, the voice making me jump. ‘Elizabeth, welcome’

Welcome? I think, welcome?!

‘Welcome? Why are you welcoming me? You kidnapped me; hurt my dad, shut me up here, and that is completely devoid of any welcome at all! And you want to welcome me?!’

‘Ah, yes well, we had hoped to get there a little earlier, and be able to talk to your father first. But, we didn’t get there in time. So we had to take measures to ensure your safety. It had to be done, and I’m sorry.’

‘And my father? Is he OK?!’

‘Dan is fine. We didn’t harm him. He knew that this may happen. He’s actually here with us.’
‘He’s here? Can I see him? Speak to him?’ I know I sound desperate, but it feels like days since I saw him last.

‘It has been days, Elizabeth. Four to be exact,’ a new voice adds. This voice sounds friendly. ‘You’ve been out since we took you four days ago.’

‘Four days…..right, so that’s why I feel like crap then. Why have I been kept out of it for four days? There’d better be a damn good reason for it!’ My anger is growing. How dare they do this to me?! What have I done that warrants such treatment? Such…a lack of my own human rights?

The first voice, the man’s voice speaks again. ‘You don’t have any human rights any more, I’m afraid, Effie, if that’s what you want to be known as. You aren’t human, and never have been. It’s only because of your mother’s wishes that you lived this long as one of them

.’ Contempt is woven throughout his words, lacing them with a bitter taste.

‘How…how can you hear what I’m thinking?’

I reel in shock when I hear the answer. ’I’m telepathic, Effie. I can hear your every word, every thought you have. But you can learn to block me out. You need to practise, and you could do this too’

‘You mean I can learn to speak and see into your mind too? I’m not sure I’d want to. It doesn’t seem right.’

I hear a gasp. I hear nothing for a long time. Too long. I feel something is wrong, it gets harder to breathe. The air in the room gets heavy, thick, I can almost taste it. Have they poisoned me? I can hear disconnected sentences floating into my mind; my mind begins to fog, my thoughts sticky, sluggish. One phrase said sticks in my mind. I don't think it will ever leave me; '

She's too dangerous...we'll have to kill her!

'

Darkness descends.

Chapter 3

This time, when I awake, the environment isn't feeling so friendly, well ‘friendly’ may have been a strong word. Well, let’s just say it was a rather hostile feeling. I open my eyes, look around, and lean forward to get up. I find I can’t. I feel like I weigh 500lbs, my arms are strapped to the bed, a hospital-style one, with the metal arms up the sides. The straps encircling my wrists feel tight, but not too uncomfortably so, but I still strain against them, pulling, fighting.

No-one comes. I feel like I’m there for hours, for all I know, I may have well been, or more, even days. Tears have been falling down my face, leaving a trail over my cheeks, a salty shadow, now that I can’t cry anymore. I have no tears left, none to shed. I lay there, my wrists burning with pain. The restraints are not just right anymore…they now seem to have bonded with my own skin, merging and sticking, becoming part of me, for the time I have been lying here, I have been trying to escape. Turning my hands, I had been trying to slip my hands out of the manacles, but to no avail.

At this point, I’m all but ready to give up, to give in. I can’t physically stay awake any longer…. stay frustrated this way. I begin to shut down my mind, go to a meditative state that my dad taught me when I was little. I relax my toes, working up through my calves, my thighs, my stomach, until I reach my face. But before I manage to achieve the final stage, my flames are back. These are not quite the same, a more vivid colouration of the original ones. And these ones? Well, these ones burn.

My restraints begin to disintegrate, the heat is so great. The slightest touch of my fire is too much for the material and leather to take. I can taste the remnants floating in the air.

My hands break free, swinging up. I hadn’t realised that they had been straining against my bonds. I leap forwards, nearly flinging myself from off the bed. Unlike the first ‘flame-up’ I had, these flames aren’t just contained to my hands and arms. They have spread to engulf my whole body. I feel a tingling sensation upon my skin. My wrists are no longer red raw. The surface has begun to heal over, as though the flames themselves are sealing the skin back together, leaving no marks, no remains of the manacle’s cruel marks. Seeing this enthuses me to do something, anything to get out of this room.

These are my flames, aren’t they? I think to myself. So if they are…well, I should be able to control THEM! With this thought, I stretch my arms out in front of me, putting all my anger of being trapped, tied and taken away from my family into my hands, to my fingertips…forcing my pain and anger towards the mirrored glass in front of me.
It shatters with a deafening BOOM. Glass showers down around me, glittering. As it hits the ground, the small insignificant shards make a cacophony of sound ringing in my ears. Musical, but haunting. The silence that follows is deafening. Whilst they finish falling, it seems as though time is slowing…I can see the shards spinning slowly in the air, the light that shines upon them, reflecting the light into a rainbow of colours that are bright enough to make me squint.
My breathing accelerates, gasps now escaping from my throat. My vision begins to waver, the view of the broken mirror in front of me nothing but a blur. I raise my hand to my head, coming away with a warm, wet substance on my fingers. I bring my hand towards my face, my focus going in and out, so it takes me a while to notice the colour.

Red.

I look up, peering through the breach in front of me. I can discern 4 people, their shadows all I can see through the haze of blood and dizziness. They don’t seem to move, the figures just stand there. I take a step closer to the gaping maw. I manage to slip upon the broken glass, sliding forward and falling flat on my back. My head hits the ground hard, driving pieces of glass into my skull. I can feel the blood starting to pour from my numerous wounds. As I look up at the ceiling, I notice it’s an off-white colour; a hint of yellow, like it’s absorbed many years of cigarette smoke. I wonder why something so mundane seems to leap out at me.

A hand appears in front of my eyes, obscuring my view. I vaguely notice that it's holding a syringe. At this point, I’m too full of pain to worry what it contains, what the liquid will do to me; will it reduce the hurt I’m feeling, knock me unconscious….or will it kill me?

Chapter 4

Whoa. That must have been some night out! Random dream. Though…not so good that I start my new job in half an hour…and I seem to have slept through 4 days.

Hmmm….must have been really good! Well, need to set off, as I said, new job today, to go with my bar work. I had an interview a fortnight ago. It’s in a bookshop. I don’t know what made me apply. I was walking past one day, and noticed the sign in the window. A sudden urge took me, and I did it. I went straight in there and got an instant interview. When the guy behind the counter saw me, he gave me a look, as though he knew me. But it passed almost instantly.

I’m sure it’s not the usual way that they do things, and the manager did say as much, but I cant help wonder why it did happen like that. He showed me around, and offered it to me. Oh well. Shouldn’t complain, I have been looking for a full-time post for a while now.

In the back of my mind, something niggled at me; but I ignored it. It happens sometimes, sometimes I listen, and others I don’t. Like everyone in the world I suppose.

I make it with mere minutes to spare. My breath pluming into the air, the temperature outside is barely above freezing this time of year.

As I walk through the door, I’m expecting Mike (the boss/owner) to glower at me. To my amazement, he hugs me. I freeze up, not really knowing what the hell I’m meant to do with my arms….do I hug back? I decide a light pat will suffice. Whilst he has me in his bear hug, I take in the room. There are a few customers milling around, picking books off the shelves, looking at the spines, some well worn, some brand new: both mixed all together in the mish-mash of the dusty shop. A couple of school kids are giggling in the back. I’m guessing they’re looking at the sex books…who didn’t at their age?

As I start to turn back to Mr Custerson, my boss, I notice a guy sitting in the corner, at the desk. He’s crouched over a book wide open on the table. He’s oblivious to anyone around him. The door opens behind me, and his dark hair ripples in the light breeze.

‘Heya Elizabeth!!’ I shudder….Why is he so damn chipper?! No, I shouldn’t feel like that, it’s good that someone is happy all the time.

'Please, call me Effie, never Elizabeth’ I correct myself, my words sounding too sharp ‘…please?’

‘Right, OK, Effie it is then.’ He seems to be tasting the word, rolling it around is mouth. ‘Effie. I like it.’ He sounds determined to remember it.

I can’t help but break into a smile. I like the old guy. ‘Right then, what have you got for me to do today?’

‘Ah, right. First, I need to introduce you into your colleague – this is James’ Mike swings his arm out to his right. He looks puzzled. He turns, searching.

‘JAMES!’

The guy working at the desk in the corner starts, cringing; his head swinging round, his eyes catching mine through the murk.

‘Mr…Mr Custerson?’ The poor guy looks bewildered. He pushes back his chair, which gives a slight scrape across the wooden floor. As he swings around, I can hear him muttering; ’bloody hell…what does the old fogey want now??’ I realise that he isn’t muttering….he’s thinking. No, that wasn't real. I shake my head, willing it to go away, but I cant help but hear his next thought before it fades ‘ Damn…oh yeah the new girl…well, I’m ready for…’. NO! Not a thought, my own imagination running away with me. I had far too much to drink this weekend.

He walks towards us, his eyes looking everywhere but at me, or so it seems. It feels like he is looking out of the corner of his eye, studying, sizing me up.

When he reaches us, he gives a slight nod, acknowledging my presence. Custerson nudges the guy.

‘At least say hello James, you could do that, couldn’t you?’ He looks frustrated, as if this happens often. Maybe it did, he must’ve had other assistants working before me.

‘Why? It’s not as though she’ll be here long, no-one ever is, you know that. What’s the record… 3 weeks wasn’t it?’ He laughs. ‘’Til he couldn’t stand this place any longer? And by looking at this one, I bet she won’t do any better. No, she looks like a week-er to me.
I’ll bet you a week’s wages.’ He turns to glare at me, finally catching my eye. Their colour is of the ocean; dark and stormy. They’re also hard, like he’s never trusted anyone in his life, and that trust isn’t going to occur any time soon either. I decide that I really need to keep out of his way; a little difficult working in such a small space all day, everyday.

‘I did not come here to vanish after a week, I need this job, and I am not one to give up easily. No way. And don’t even think you can drive me out either James’ My affront at such an accusation starts to show through my voice. ‘So you, you can stop before you even start. I’m going to be here until I decide to leave not you. And I don’t see it being any time soon, ok?’

I lean back against the bookcase behind me, crossing my arms, attempting to convey my seriousness of the matter to him. I’m not so sure my attempt at confident nonchalance works on him, but it certainly makes me feel better.
A hand suddenly claps me on my back. I leap forwards, right into the unwelcoming chest of my new colleague. Great. I push myself off him quickly, my face getting red. I look away, and into the gaze of Custerson; who bursts out laughing.

‘I can’t believe you two already. I think you’ll get along just fine!’ a grin spreads across his face as he speaks. ‘Elizab-Effie…’ He corrects himself quickly, so I give him a slight grin. ‘I’d better show you how we work then, if you’re gonna be staying, hadn’t I?’

By the time I get home that evening, I’m knackered. I’d been on my feet following Custerson –Mark- around, trying to get to grips with everything. No nice, slow amalgamation for me…straight into the deep end I go!

Ugh. I feel like I could drop down and sleep for days! I walk through my apartment door, throw the keys onto the stairs, and then collapse onto my cosy, comfy sofa.

I wake up to the sound of ringing. Bleary and sluggish from an awkward sleep, I stumble to my feet, trying to find the source of the annoyance. I manage to crash into the table, damn it, tripping over the rug on the floor. The noise is still going, and getting louder, too. I stand straight, calming myself, getting my bearings before setting off again.

I feel my way towards what I now realise is my phone ringing. I increase my efforts, wondering why someone was calling me so late at night. Wait, no, so early in the morning I notice as I catch sight of my wall clock. 2am…who needs to talk to me at this time?

I finally see my mobile flashing on the sofa. I dive for it as it stops ringing. Frustrated, I toss it back onto the cushions. I’ll see who it was in the morning. Crawling my way back to bed, it begins ringing again.

‘Gah!’ I exclaim out loud.

‘Why is it always after you walk away they bloody well ring again?!’ I literally growl. I snatch up the phone, ‘What?! What do you want? Do you not know

what time it is?!’

A polite, young-sounding male voice answers my question. ‘Umm….Is this Miss Effie L. Brooks? Miss Brooks, daughter of Daniel Brooks?’

My anger abates a little. The guy sounds contrite, and a little scared, if truth be told. Though why he’d be scared about talking to someone over the phone, I have no idea, what’d he think I could do?

Hesitantly, I answer. ‘Yes, this is Effie Brooks. What do you want? It’s 2am!’ I don’t bother to apologise for my short temper.

‘Ah, well, yes I apologise about that, but it really was quite urgent that I called you, and I didn’t have the time to check the hour in England before calling.’ The hour in England? Where’s he calling from then? I think.

‘I’m calling from America, Effie. But as you can probably tell, I’m a English native.’ I can almost see the smile on his face as he says it.

‘I guess that makes me a native too then, does it Mr…?’ I’m still a little hesitant to be talking to someone I don’t know, especially to one I don’t even know the name of.

‘Ah, yes. I haven’t introduced myself, have I? My name is Colin, Colin Smyth. I am an acquaintance of your father’s. In fact, I work with him closely. In fact, he's the one that's been training me for the last 5 years.' Why would he need training

to pack boxes?!

‘My father works for a local company, doing moves for people. You don’t sound much like a removals expert.’ I grin to myself slightly, how’s he going to get out of this one then?

I think. I start a quiet giggle, the hour making me feel a little giddy. No human should have to be this awake at 2am.

His answer makes me fall silent, it’s so unexpected.

Chapter 5

I can't hold it in. I burst out in a fit of hysterical giggling.

'You expect me to believe that?! Of all things, you think I'm gonna believe that my father is a witch

?!'

I try to calm myself down, but I find that it's a futile gesture; a fresh fit of laughter escapes from my throat.

'Please, Effie, calm down. Surely you know about this? You should have been told all of our world when you turned 21. That's when our powers awaken. Your father, he told you nothing? Nothing at all, Effie?' Colin sounds confused, as if I should be believing in this crap. But, he also sounds sincere. But, witches

? Hah, as if I'd believe something crazy like that.

'Sorry Colin, but no, my father has not said a word to me about this craziness that you're blurting out. Dad is a normal person, with a normal job, with a normal life. And, if you want to know, nothing strange happened on my birthday. I went out at the weekend and drank so much I slept like the dead for 4 days. I woke up ravenous, thirsty and a little hung-over, but perfectly normal.' I grin to myself, remembering a little of the night, my friends buying me drink after drink after drink...

'Four days, Effie? You were out for four days? Are you sure about that?' Colin begins to sound extremely worried, as if my four days has confirmed something. 'Think very carefully before answering my next question, Effie, think very carefully indeed.'

I can hear only his breathing for a minute or so. Composing himself to ask me this seemingly difficult question. I take a moment to glance at the clock. It's now 3:07am. This phone call seems to be taking forever, but also not long at all.

'Effie...What exactly do you remember that weekend? What exactly happened until you can't remember a thing?' He pauses, and takes a deep breath. 'Do you recollect a moment that seems strange?'

I slowly sit down onto my couch. I run my hand along the arm, feeling the ridges in the purple material.

'What do you mean by 'funny'? Funny as in...?'

'Funny as in blurry moments, dizziness, moments where you remember nothing. Funny as in people there that didn't look right; out of place.' Colin's voice takes on a monotonous tone, lulling me into a dazed mentality.


I lean back, trying to think hard, wading through the fog in my mind of that night. It felt like the swirling mist itself was fighting me, not wanting me to remember. I sift through the early parts of the evening; getting ready, chatting on the phone to my friends, running out the house for the taxi...the taxi? I thought I was getting a lift?

'Wait. The taxi...I, I think...No. Never mind.' The clouds seem to swirl faster, more confusingly. 'Just make it STOP! My head!' The swirling mists begin to press down, the pressure in my skull increasing, feeling on the verge of exploding.

I drop the phone, hear it smash against the wooden floor, my eyes roll, and then...nothing.

A hand on my shoulder, gently shaking. A voice in my ear, whispering, no, shouting.

'Effie! Wake up! Right now, or I'll.....umm...' The guy's voice sounds worried, or, well, just plain scared. 'C'mon Effie...say something, please?! Tell me to go away, or swear at me....grunt! Grunt for all I care!'

'Shut up and go away....I have no idea who you are' Well, that's what I would have said, but it came out more like:

'Shhhhhhdup ngowey....nodeer hooo y'arrr' an unintelligible, garbled mess.

'Well, I didn't think you'd take the grunting literally...I would prefer you to talk a little more coherent, it would make me feel so much better about your state of mind' Panic permeates Colin's voice, unsettling me. Definately sounding closer than it should be.

'.....Ughhhhhh...' I groan, then give a scoff, I sounded like a zombie out of a movie. I crack open my eyes, which feel like they've been nailed shut. Through the small and blurry gap, I glimpse a grin. Colin.

'Well Effie, if you can chuckle, you must be alright then!'

...Hold on...

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.10.2010

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