My mind reels with possibilities of how to escape this place. I can’t let her know my plans. Sarmira has taught me a lot about dark magic these past years. It became more prolific when I turned thirteen. That was nearly five years ago. My birthday is coming up this summer. I don’t want to think of the prospects of what she will do to me after I turn eighteen. All I know is it’s my moment of awakening. Awakening to what exactly? She hasn’t told me much about it. Most of what she has planned, she keeps to herself. I don’t trust her, and my gut tells me it isn’t good.

My problem, where will I go? Shadow walkers lurk everywhere. Beings that are usually a nocturnal hybrid of some sort. A cross between a necromancer and another species. Sarmira has taught me to know that much. One isn’t born into necromancy, it’s learned. Unless of course the bloodline comes straight from Vothule’s lineage, Sarmira’s father.

She told me once about a great battle where the heir to the throne—a necromancer princess was killed by a knight. Sir Bryce Storm ruined any chance for hierarchy to their coven. Vothule is still king, but he seeks to help his dead daughter in finding the right vessel. Well, if my suspicions are correct, they’re plans are to have her hop into my body until the quest for the right bloodline reveals itself. I will not be her puppet.

The only I have—and this came from Sage: she said, each child born receives their gifts at eighteen. And on their birthday at the stroke of midnight, they must choose a side. Good or evil. This has to be what Sarmira is up to. My fear, she plans to possess my soul, like she did my mother’s.

A howl outside my window startles me. Wolves. They don’t normally come this far east. I’m reminded by the werewolf Sarmira killed earlier. Does it have something to do with that, I wonder?

I look out my bedroom window and view the silhouette of a wolf upon a cliff, cry out at the full moon. Several more wolves form behind him and they join in a song of howls. The performance is spectacular, and terrifying in the same breath. “They’ve claimed revenge,” I whisper.

I shut my window. The cool spring breeze is nice, but the thought of one of them jumping through the frame terrifies me. One gash, not a bite, but a slash that breaks the skin, of any living creature will turn to a werewolf.

How could she be so stupid to kill a werewolf on a full moon night? She’s smarter than that. What is her ulterior motive? No this was purposeful. She knew they would come.

I watch through the window, as they charge towards our house. There must be at least a dozen or more.

We don’t have an army here. Nothing to protect us. It’s just my nanny who I have grown to love, Martha, my mother and me.

I have a feeling I won’t survive the night. They will get through the door and have their revenge.

Terrified, I burst through my bedroom door and down the stairs to warn mother, but I find her standing in the hall meditating. She has a smile on her face, and says without breaking her concentration, “This is going to be a wonderful lesson for you, Maura.”

Lesson? We’re under attack and she thinks this is some sort of home school lesson?

The door thuds violently. I can hear the vicious growls from the other side.

“How can you say that? You triggered revenge by killing one of their own. Now we’re going to die.”

“Hardly.” She huffs, keeping her focus. “They won’t get in here if you’re worried. My magic is too powerful. Watch and learn, my daughter.”

Daughter? I think not! Still, I observe her next move.

Chapter 5

I catch him glance at me before he looks away. My first instinct is to free him, but I know that isn’t an option. Besides, my mother would skin me alive, and feed the leftovers to the dogs.

“So, you see,” she says, pulling me from my thoughts. Her words make me cringe. “We have plenty to keep us fed through the coming winter.”

More moans sound off, bringing attention to my mother. The noise of their anguish and tortured pain get under my skin. “Come, I’ll show you. This is how we normally quiet them down.”

Grabbing a key from the wall, she takes the man that has tried relentlessly to break free from the cell chamber and places the key in the lock. She points. “See this one? He’s going to give me trouble. Perhaps now is the time to free him.”

Is she really going to let him go?

With the flick of her wrist, she suspends the man motionless, only his eyes move. “First, you keep them immobile.” She unlocks the cell door, and we walk inside. “Then you open his mouth like this.” She pinches his jaw, forcing it open. “These creatures are quite the delicacies. Of course, the human variety are best of all. But this hybrid half wolf half man will do.”

She moves towards his lips but doesn’t kiss them, instead she takes in a deep breath, and I witness his very skin begin to dry out.

I’m horrified at what’s happening. “Mom, stop, you’re killing him.”

She breaks away from the man, and turns, glaring at me, her eyes glowing blue. “Perhaps you should try.”

Horrified, I take a step backwards. “No. I’m not hungry.”

“Very well.” She tilts her head studying my reaction. “I see you’re not ready. You will be. You’re eighteenth birthday will be here soon. By then you will know how to pull the essence from your victims.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“My daughter have I not taught you anything?” She drops the man, and he falls to the floor, who is too weak to stand.

I step backwards more. “Please, mother. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll learn how to do it. I’m honestly not hungry right now,” I lie again.

Mother stiffens, and I know deep down she doesn’t believe me. “Very well.” She turns back around saying, “We can’t have food going to waste, now, can we?” Picking the man up like a ragdoll she finishes him off, until his dehydrated skin clings to his bones.

I want to run away, get out of there as fast as I can, but I know that isn’t going to happen. This isn’t the mother I remember. No, this is the malevolent wraith that tried to possess me as a little girl. My real mother saved me that day. Ever since then, I’ve been trapped here with her—the wraith in the mirror. She calls herself Sarmira. I don’t think she would ever harm me but seeing what she just did to that poor man, has me rethinking my options.

Shortly after my mother took on the wraith –this thing possessing her, who came from the mirror, my father suspiciously died, and I have my theories. Mother said he fell over the cliff and into the ocean, but after seeing this I have no doubt in my mind, that this evil entity ate him. I still call her mother out loud for fear of what she will do to me. She doesn’t know I see her true identity – she’s Sarmira.

Chapter 4

It’s been two weeks since my lessons with Sage. Her absence has me worried.

“Hand me that jar of crow feathers, Maura.” My mother points to the shelf against the wall.

I hate being in her witchy work area below the house. It smells musty. Plus, I sense death. Like as though she has secret places hiding prisoners away in one of her locked up rooms. All the doors to them are sealed with dark magic, so, I wouldn’t be able to peek anyway. I never hear any sounds coming from the other side, but there is a sense of fear.

“Maura,” my mother cries disrupting my thoughts. “I do say you have been a million miles away the last two weeks. What has gotten into you?”

You. You have distracted me, and I can’t wait to leave this place. “Nothing, I was just trying to remember this spell you’re teaching me,” I lie.

I glance at all three doors briefly before asking, “What do you hide behind there?”

She scans in the direction of my stare. “Food.”

“If it’s food then why do you keep the room locked?”

My mother smiles. I don’t like her expression. “Well,” she says, while grating the skin of a carrot into the bowl of mixture, “some of the groceries might try to escape. We can’t be too cautious.”

“I don’t understand.” I squint, is she saying what I think she is?

“Perhaps it’s time I show you. Food is hard to come by around here. You know, with the constant wars going on in our part of the world, we need to eat.”

Walking to one of the three doors, she hums, picking the middle one. Her palm glows a bright emerald, before waving it in the air to release the lock. Opening the door, she adds, “This is where we keep the livestock.”

I listen, but don’t hear any animals, instead, moans of people gasp, and mutter words, crying out for help. Dirty knotted hands, slip through the cell bars on either side of the chamber. “I’m so hungry,” one voice calls. Another cell next to her, cries, “Please, let us out.” He jerks at the bars but fails to free himself.

My throat goes dry, and I need air, but it’s too late. We’re deep in her little jail cubicles for me to turn back now. Besides if she found out how I really feel I might end up in here myself.

My mother throws the carrot she was peeling through the cell bars of the woman asking for food.

The prisoner scrambles backwards looking for it on the dirt floor. “Thank you.”

One detainee catches my eye. His eyes a bright blue and his hair as white as a winter’s day. I’ve heard about people having this strange appearance, but never have I come across any.

My mother notices me staring. “Ah, I see you have met Arik. Son of the famous Princess Isobel Deagon and Sir Gavin Storm.

“Mother, you have kidnapped the prince?” My mind reels that she would have such balls to pull this off. “Do you know what they will do to you when they find out?”

She sneers. “Perfectly aware.” She tilts her head staring at him. “And they don’t have the power to defeat me. Besides, I’ve done my homework. They won’t ever find him.”

Chapter 3

It’s another ordinary day, in the same ordinary city, at the same ordinary coffee shop, when I see her. The mundane rhythm of an everyday chain broken. She has her back to me, but I know it’s her. I recognize that backside anywhere.

I stare at her in awe, as people push through the doors and pass me. The line increases, and the crowded coffee shop becomes busier. Customers are preoccupied with their phones, while waiting, whereas other patrons converse at tables or concentrate their gaze at a computer screen. One person spills coffee, and he grunts in frustration. Some help him clean the mess, bringing some attention to the drama unfolding. Except her. She stares ahead patiently waiting her turn to order, ignoring the commotion.

Should I touch her shoulder? No, that might startle her. Perhaps saying her name. “Sarah?”

She turns around and her face lights up. She sees me. Her eyes as blue as I remember.

We met on the beach. She wore a string bikini…red as I recall. I was sitting up in the lifeguard tower, watching out for careless swimmers.

“I haven’t seen you here before, where’s Glen?” I remember her asking.

I stumbled over my words. The sight of her had me smitten. “We traded shifts.”

Now, as I stand here gazing at her it brings back the painful memories. She smiles putting out her hand for me to grab, only it isn’t mine who holds her palm. He plows past my frame, and that’s when I realize… I’m a ghost.

©Copyright 2021 Emmy R Bennett