A tug on the handle of the cellar door tells me I’m in for more trouble than I thought. “Damn it all to hell.” I tug on it again, placing my shortie boot on the ground around it, and pulling with all of my might, but the door does not even budge. What I need is a magic little witch or a wand.
A black shadow in my periphery causes me to turn in alarm, but Rupert lands on the handle in front of me. “Always in trouble, girlie,” he caws. “Did you think the witches were just going to leave their shit unlocked for any vampire to enter? No vampires unless invited, remember?”
My heart sinks but I’m not fucking giving up. “Then I’ll call Devora out and challenge her right here and now but I’m not leaving without Raven. They took her, Rupert. Devora is trying to keep her from telling me about the sacred land. Everyone knows the story except me.”
The raven’s beady eyes roll. “Now that’s not true, girlie. Very few people know the story, and it’s far better kept that way, least we start another war the likes this area has not seen in centuries. He flaps his wings. “I can get you in, but if you tell a soul I did, I swear ….”
My chest lightens. “Thank you, Rupert. Of course I won’t tell. Now hurry…”
Rupert throws his beak in the air. “Magic word, girlie. What’s the magic word?”
“Oh, for crimes sake, please, Rupert, please help me? And go fast? Who knows what they’ll do to Raven for siding with the vampires?”
He flaps his wings.
A witch I was born, centuries ago,
Sworn to a coven that would not burn.
Powers were given to fight our foe,
With the force of this power, you will learn.
There is only one way to open the door
Be still, count to three, and repeat after me...
A witch I was born, please let me in…
Rupert jumps from the large iron handle, and I tug hard, heaving it up with all of my strength, and with force and lots of effort it starts to open. “Thank you, Rupert!”
“Shhh … lest I’m found out by the witches and they burn me and my family alive. Consider yourself on your own now, girlie. See you back in the forest. And be careful, please?” he says before flapping his wings and flying away in the night.
I walk stealthy down the stairs, my jewel-tipped sword at my side and small dagger in my hand. No one is going to keep Raven prisoner. I’ve been through that hell and that’s not happening to her no matter that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me her damn secrets. The bottom steps squeak as I step on the old wood. My breathing almost stops.Damn it all to hell.
I stay put, not making another move, waiting and watching carefully in the dark, ready with my dagger for whatever evil may come. Anticipating a flock of vicious witches descending from above. But all stays quiet, at least for now.
After a few moments, I step onto the dirt-packed floor of the room, and follow it around, letting my keen night vision take control, scanning for anything of danger in the basement ahead. The door to the vault Raven took us to is on the left. A part of me wants to get in there and get those shadow books right now, but I already know there’s no way to do that without the help of a witch. I pass it and walk around the corner, and my chest tightens at the sight in front of me.
Three vertically barred cages line the backside of this little side room. Raven lies on a cot at the back of one, seemingly sound asleep or out cold from some pesky spell that her Aunt Devora has cast. I swear these witches are as tricky as can be. I inch forward until I get to the cell and look around for a set of keys, hoping they may be hanging on some just-out-of-reachhook, but with no such luck. “Raven,” I whisper hiss trying to wake her without giving myself away to the witches upstairs. “Raven,” I whisper hiss again, my body flooding with fear when she doesn’t move.
She finally stirs, stretching her neck slightly, opening her eyes slowly while focusing the bright green orbs on me. “Embry. What are you doing here?” she whispers. “If they find you, they’ll burn you alive or send you back to the dark ages with the others.”
“I’m not leaving you in this prison. Tell me how to get you out. I can’t find a key.” She shakes her head. “Aunt Devora doesn’t leave keys lying around. Everything is a spell. Good thing I’ve heard this one time and time again,” she says.
A witch I was born, centuries ago,
Sworn to a coven that would not burn.
Powers were given to fight our foe.
With the force of this power, you will learn.
There is only one way to open the door
Be still, count to three, and repeat after me...
A witch I was born, please let me out…
