He shot through the mirror and into his father’s study. He came through so fast he accidentally knocked over several framed photos and books on the shelves trying to stop.
An anxious but welcoming voice spoke to him. “Son?” His father pulled him up to his feet.
“It’s Calli… Something’s happened to Calli. I have to help her. I have to get there fast!” He stared into his father’s face, and all the hurt and betrayal simply vanished because Calli needed him and he needed his father.
Reginald looked into his son’s eyes. For a moment Malcolm thought he’d waste time with pointless questions. Instead, he pointed to Malcolm’s old childhood baseball cap on the shelf behind him. “Grab the baseball cap,”
“Sarah!” his father bellowed. “I need you in my study, now!”
There was a thunder of steps above them, then down the hall as his mother burst into the room.
“What is it, Reg—?” Then she saw Malcolm. “Malcolm? Are you all right?”
“No time to explain, mom. Calli’s in trouble.”
His father held out a hand, and his mother took it just as they activated the traveling totem.
They landed on Calli’s front doorstep. Malcolm didn’t wait for his parents and rushed inside the house, calling Calli’s name. His boots skidded on broken glass and the congealed blood on the floor, nearly causing him to fall. He steadied himself, his heart pounding. But he had to keep moving. He passed by the mirror he had used to scry into Calli’s home. His reflection was fractured, as though something had struck the mirror and broken the perfect glass.
He called her name again as he headed up the stairs with his parents following him inside the house.
“Dad, check the first floor,” he said as he rushed up the steps.
He passed by the empty portrait of Celestine Skycaster, then halted, though he wasn’t sure why. His head turned to look at the painting again. A glowing dot appeared on the horizon of the painting’s skyline, growing brighter and brighter until a wizened old witch halted at the edges of the frame, her face blocking out the scenery behind her. She looked like she wanted to crawl through the frame and into the room.
“Son of Salem, you came! Quick! He’s taken her, taken my sweet grandchild!” Celestine’s voice was breathless.
Malcolm’s fists clenched. “Who took her?”
“A witch hunter with a dark heart. He’s headed for the Black Cliffs.”
“How do you know that?”
“The old spells have claimed him like they took you that night, I could see the fragments of them wrapped around him. He’s under the thrall of the past, wanting to satisfy their need for a blood sacrifice.”
Malcolm remembered what happened that last time they’d reached out. He’d almost taken a short walk off a very tall cliff. “How long ago? Maybe I can open a portal there? Get ahead of him?”
Celestine shook her head. “Not on the cliffs, they are bewitched with magic far older than you or I. You must take a broom, boy.”
Why did it have to be a fucking broom?
Celestine read his expression. “Snap out of it, child, this is no time for navel-gazing, you hear? There’s a broom in the downstairs closet. Go!” Celestine’s words snapped him out of his budding dread.
He heard his mother call upstairs. “Mac? What’s going on up there?”
“Mom, get dad to summon the Council here on my behalf. Tell them it’s an emergency. We have witch hunters in Moonstone Falls!” He raced down the stairs passed her toward the broom closet, then he turned and tossed her his cell phone. “Then have dad meet me at the Black Cliffs. You stay here and call Sage and Jasper.”
“Who is Sage? Never mind, I’ll figure it out.” She caught the phone and started scrolling through his contacts.
Malcolm opened the downstairs closet, shoving heavy winter coats and witch cloaks aside, searching for a broom. He stilled at the sound of a kitten’s muffled cry at the back of the closet.
“Sephie?” He found a brown burlap sack deep inside the closet and opened it. Calli’s familiar was shaking hard, struggling for breath. If Sephie was still here, then Calli was still alive!
He cradled the kitten against his chest and put on one of the old barn coats, tucking the kitten inside against his chest before zipping it up. Then he found the witch’s broom in the closet and pulled it out.
His parents were waiting for him in the living room.
“Malcolm, you can’t go alone.” His father grabbed his arm, pulling him to a halt. “What if your magic fails? I should go with you. You’ll need protection.”
