This is Ch. 5 in an ongoing story
I'm posting a little faster (than Ch 4)! I'm so, so grateful to everyone who's given feedback. Truly. Rest assured, no one wants this completed more than me. Ch. 6 is almost drafted and ready for some fantastically brilliant beta readers, Berry & Ash. I wish I could give more of an accurate timeline, but I'm learning sometimes you gotta leave it alone. It really does make a difference between blocky characters and something that's exciting. However! I am working on building up my capacity for the DISCIPLINE aspect of writing, which is a fancy way of saying I joined a Discord channel that does multiple writing sprints a day. She's cranking those words out like it's her job.
Rhea huddled under the sink as jagged glass crashed around her bare feet. She was jolted into motion when she heard someone banging on the door.
"Are you ok?" yelled Bethanny from the hallway, "I heard a smash."
Rhea crept out from under the sink. The mirror frame was still affixed to the solid wall and still held the aluminum backing in place; the glass simply exploded.
"It was a hex," Rhea called out.
She heard Bethanny twist the knob of the door to the hallway. Rhea scowled; it was these sorts of lapses in judgment that kept her from initiating.
"Don't open the door, something's wrong!" Rhea yelled.
"What do you mean?" Bethanny called back.
Rhea scowled to herself in irritation. "I was hexed!" she yelled, "if it's still active, your energy might reignite it." She then noticed three massive shards of glass drive into the wall like daggers. They still quivered with the force that propelled them into the wall. Two shards were side by side the other several inches below. It was an intentional shape, like a narrow triangle that was inverted. The top shards seemed about eye level, the lower one would have punctured her solar plexus.
Rhea hopped over the glass gingerly. When she emerged from the bathroom she saw Bethanny standing in the threshold to the hallway. "Are you sure it's a hex?" asked Bethanny. Rhea pointed toward the bathroom and said "It's like the mirror tried to kill me."
Which meant the caster managed to bypass innumerable layers of protection magick. And knew she was here
This was a hit.
"Wow," said Bethanny.
"Yeah. Wow." replied Rhea as she stalked over to her bag and retrieved a small satchel. She pulled out a small handful of black powder that smelled faintly of herbs and burning wood. She whispered into her cupped handful and dark gray smoke began to rise from the fine powder and filled the room with the smell of burning ash. She threw the powder across the shattered glass and some at the mirror frame for good measure. The powder began to dissolve in hissing, popping snaps. Then, with a loud crack, the 3 daggers of glass fell to the ground.
"Is that black salt?" asked Bethanny.
Rhea nodded. Most witches used some form of black salt to eliminate hostile energy, but necromancers salt was particularly effective. "Can I have some?" Bethanny asked. Rhea looked at her with a raised brow and said, "You need to initiate as a witch first. Then we'll teach you how to use it."
Bethanny's curled her lip in response. She said "The smell is really strong. It's gonna stink up the hallway and I'm gonna get shit for it." She walked towards the bathroom. Rhea shook her head. Though Bethanny struggled with discipline, the woman damn well knew the rules.
"Why would someone hex you?" asked Bethanny, from the bathroom. She slid the window open. Some of the glass crunched under her slippers.
Rhea considered chastising her for standing on the glass but was too fatigued by worry to bother. Maybe consequences might finally get Bethanny to think-- though the hex looked deactivated, whoever did this managed to overcome protection magick Rhea had thought was impenetrable. She began to gather her belongings and said "I think I should leave. You'll need to sweep that glass with a ritual broom into a paper bag. Burn the bag in the firepit then scrub your whole body and wash the clothes you wore."
"What do you mean?" asked Bethanny.
"Whoever did this is targeting me. If I stay here, you're in danger," answered Rhea
Bethanny pursed her lips, "But where will you go?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," lied Rhea. The less she knew of Rhea's whereabouts, the safer she would be. The safer they would all be. There was a cafe nearby and the crowded energy would shield her for a while. It would give her time to think.
"Do you think it was the vampire who did this?" asked Bethanny
"Probably not," said Rhea. She didn't know for certain what magick Lucy was capable of but knew she wasn't capable of this.
"But wouldn't she be the first suspect?" asked Bethanny. "She knows where the enclave is."
"She doesn't" answered Rhea. "You said not to bring her here."
"Oh," said Bethanny.
"Lucy wants to figure this out just as much as I do," said Rhea. "Whatever killed the witch also poisoned a vampire. And if she wanted to take the body, she wouldn't have needed all that spectacle." Bethanny made a tight sound in her throat. Rhea looked up and saw Bethanny's eyes, large and a bit bulging, now bright red with tears.
"I'm sorry," said Rhea, "did you know her?"
Bethanny nodded. "Yeah, I knew her. Janice."
Rhea realized she hadn't thought to learn the dead witch's name. Janice, who was still trapped between worlds. Rhea grabbed her bag and turned towards the door when a thought struck her.
"The flies," she said urgently. She dropped her bag and turned towards the bathroom. "Bethanny," she said, "when you clean the glass, make sure you get the dead flies."
But when she got to the bathroom, the window sill was bare.
"There's no flies in here," said Bethanny.
Rhea tilted her head "I must be remembering wrong."
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The rain had resumed by the time Rhea had reached the coffee shop. Her mind still raced and she didn't have the wherewithal to scan the menu so she ordered the house special written on a blackboard in thick chalk lines: horchata with 2 shots of espresso. She managed to find a table and sat to collect her thoughts.
She couldn't retreat to the island; it was too dangerous if the caster found her again. She sighed and pressed her middle finger hard into her temple, abating the blooming tension headache somewhat. Fear and cold sweat now weakened her resolve to keep this from the others to keep them safe. She thought of the dead witch-- Janice. And unknown souls that might join her if Rhea failed. She looked at her phone for a few long moments.
Are you up?
texted Rhea
