I utter the words inside my head and lay my palms flat on the open pages. Sighing as I do so and jump as the edge of the next page lifts and tries to move under my restrictive hold. I yank my hands back in shock that it actually made it do something and watch in awe and horror as the pages begin to flip over in this windless room. They move fast as though caught in the throes of a gust of vicious wind and seem to hasten as it progresses. I swallow down my saliva and choke on the sudden dryness of my mouth.
Even though I have been around witchcraft and seen Sierra and Colton practicing together, this still is an alien sight to me, and I recoil and muffle a gasp as it flips harder and harder. Picking up speed like it might fly off the table at any second. Getting halfway through the book before the pages fall open with an almighty thud that makes me flinch and jump.
Sierra scrapes her chair across the floor quickly and comes to me, obviously excited that the first book I tried gave me some sort of answer. She seems oblivious to how abnormal this is, and I wonder at how often she has seen a book do this, with wide eyed wariness.
The two pages open in front of me are in some foreign language I don’t recognize, not Spanish, and I squint at it and lean closer in a bid to understand. They look like symbols of some sort and cover the pages fully, all over, some even running up the edge and not following regular lines of a book.
“What are they?” I ask quizzically as Sierra leans and scrolls her fingers along the inky decorative images. Meadow gets up and comes to peer over my shoulder and we fall silent as Sierra focuses.
“Runes. Some sigils. Much like what are etched into the stones buried around our land. Protection…. mostly about keeping things out. I don’t understand why this…..” She sighs and turns the book to face her to get a better look. Seemingly unsure why of all the pages, this one seems to want us to read it. Her expression falls a little with obvious disappointment that she doesn’t seem to be finding the answers we need.
“So, it’s the spell to make the rune border?” Meadow interjects flatly, probably also wondering how this is meant to help us now, and Sierra nods, shrugging with confusion that the book would show us this. It’s not exactly useful given our pack are already bewitched on the other side of it.
“Maybe it wants us to reinforce the border? Maybe it’s a sign we should be focusing on protecting ourselves first, maybe another spell is coming.” I blow out air in frustration, clawing for reasons and Sierra squints and leans into the book to read it for a second time. Her brow furrowing harshly and her mouth pinches up, making it obvious she really wants to see more than just that.
“No, the runes don’t fade. The spell will outlast all of us and for the time being we don’t want to extend it, although now we know we can….. I just don’t…. wait! Of course!!” Sierra’s hands fly to her mouth as she covers a gasp that escapes loudly, and she throws us a wide-eyed look.
“What?” Meadow snaps impulsively, startled by her gesture and I begin tapping my foot on the floor as anxiety overtakes me. My blood rushing to warm my skin with her sudden outburst.
“It’s not the spell…. it’s who wrote it. She’s a witch.” Sierra turns the book, sliding its heaviness around to face us again and taps at the bottom right of the second page, somewhat excitedly; at a little symbol that looks like it was burned into the page with hot metal. It’s tiny, a small flowing L and C surrounded by a vine design that wrap it into one continuous form and is unusually pretty.
“You know this witch? She’s alive… I don’t understand?” I point out knowing the runes predate even Sierra’s father and as witches have human life spans then it’s probably not reasonable to think she lives still. Meadow sits down on the stool next to me, her energy wavering as she too comes to the same conclusion, and I’m engulfed with her extreme sadness and stress. Her mind on her mate, much like mine is, and desperate for Sierra to explain seeing as she has latched onto this ray of hope, or whatever it is.
“Leyanne Cruden… And oh yes, she’s alive, unless in the last eight years someone figured out how to kill an immortal witch who has lived for thousands of years. She’s not like any witch you will ever meet. She wrote this spell for my ancestors to protect themselves and much like everything she does, it’s powerful, flawless, and unbreakable. Much like her. She’s the most powerful witch I have ever known.” Sierra’s awe and deep respect for this person shines through her words, her face flushing slightly, and there’s a new light of something in her eyes. Dare I say she has found a reason to hope.
“Immortal? Witches only have human life spans. What if she is the one behind the fog? You said no witch could pull off that spell… could she? Can we trust this
Bruja
” Meadow interjects, a hint of doubt and fear rising in her voice as my mind falls in line with hers. And I wonder if the witch who wrote our protection spell could remove it and let the fog in among the rest of my people if we are stupid enough to let her in here.
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