Raven The Fire Blood Amulet

Chapter 4

“The world is in chaos Markus, I am sure you have heard of the troubles up north and the attacks happening to the east…the rumors of bloodthirsty creatures ripping people apart” Janelle says, a faint tremble in her voice. Was she afraid?

Markus nods, “yes I have, one of the many reasons why I want to leave Wintersvale and New America.”

“You want to leave New America?” The surprise and shock evident in Janelle’s voice. She had not thought someone like Markus to be the fleeing kind. Has she perhaps been wrong about him?

Markus sighs, looking at the amulet in his hand.

“How exactly did you discover that Ducreux had the amulet?”

“He was parading it like an i***t around his mistress’s neck in Bridgewater. I was fascinated and when I had the opportunity for a closer look, I recognized it as a blood fire opal, which as you well know have all been supposedly destroyed.”

“Does she know what she is?” Markus asks, standing up. He walks over to the desk and drops the amulet back into the wooden box, rubbing his palm with the thumb of his other hand.

“I don’t think so,” Janelles shakes her head, closing the box, “but she is aware she is different.”

Markus moves to the door, the chances that someone else might have seen the amulet and recognize it was a high possibility and that also worries him.

“She is safe here, White Oaks can protect her,” Janelle responds to his thoughts.

“Not forever though, once she learns what she is and what she is capable of…” Markus frowns, “her time with Ducreux…I am assuming it was not an easy life.”

“No” Janelle answers sadly, “he had not treated her very kindly. But she is untouched, apart from the outward physical abuse he had not s****l assult her in anyway.”

It had been one of the things she had feared, a fey losing her innocence before coming into her powers could have a devastating effect. She was not ignorant about the Fey and just like Markus her knowledge about them was extensive.

“I was promised compensation,” Markus stands in the doorway, his back to Janelle.

“Of course as agreed.”

“You know that if I do this…and she learns who and what she is, everything is going to change.”

“Yes, I know.”

“It will have a ripple effect that no one will be able to stop,” he warns.

“I know.”

Markus gives a little shake of his head, before shrugging, “I know you are harboring a witch. Send her to me…I will need her” and he starts to walk away.

“Markus?”

He stops.

“Raven has imprinted on Junaid.”

Markus curses and for a moment he closes his eyes as he processes that little bit of information. So, the little bird has attached herself to a big wolf.

“Anything else I need to know?”

Janelle could hear the annoyance in his tone, “no. I will get someone to show you to your quarters.”

Markus nods and he disappears down the hall.

Gizelle was sitting on the small rock wall that surrounds the once marbled fountain in the center of the south-east garden of White Oaks. The fountain’s lady has not poured water out of her vase for over two centuries. The water in the fountain basin is green and slimy, but Gizelle did not mind as she swirls one finger in the murky liquid.

She knew the Red Hood Enchanter only by his reputation and she cannot quell the tiny flutter of excitement she was feeling. She has felt his presence and she was certain he has felt hers. Here at White Oaks she never bothers to mask her magic, hence being the only witch here, even though she was a half-breed. In all justification a true witch, she was also a wolfwalker, but her magic suppresses her shifting abilities. And Gizelle has never shifted into her wolf and her she-beast has been dormant since birth.

Gizelle sees out of the corner of her eye Junaid walking towards her. She stands up, wiping her wet finger on her blue jeans. Janelle tolerates her taste for old world clothes because of who she was and she was only permitted to wear them within the borders of White Oaks. She runs shaky hands over her tight copper red curls as he approaches. There was no question he had come for her.

Gizelle and Junaid had grown up together, but ever since the arrival of the girl, she has rarely seen him. They were not friends although she likes to think him one, for he often joins her when she trolls the forest in search of herbs and roots. On these excursions she has gotten used to his large presence, and he was the only one that she actually feels safe with. She knows Janelle has instructed him to keep an eye on her, but since he has been otherwise preoccupied, she has also been prohibited from going into the forest.

“Gizelle” Junaid greets with a slight bow of his head.

“Junaid,” she smiles in return.

“Janelle is looking for you.”

“Of course.”

Gizelle stands in front of the large wooden door that leads to the library. She has been briefed by Janelle that Markus requested her to help him, which delights her but also puzzles her. Markus was a powerful warlock in his own right, why would he need a half-breed? She was certain it had to do with the girl. Everyone here at White Oaks knew of her, but have yet to see her. Gizelle lifts her hand to knock on the door, whatever the reason as to why he needs her, their meeting has been inevitable since his arrival.

“Come in” a voice answers her knock and she carefully opens the door.

Markus looks up from the large leather bound book on the table in front of him. His eyes drifting over the woman who has entered and his mouth curls upwards at her appearance. She could have stepped out of a time portal straight from the 21st century. The blue jeans and white sweater are unfamiliar yet suited her perfectly.

Gizelle shuffles on her feet uncomfortably, her hands instantly going to her hair. Her hair was long and fell in a disheveled curling mess around her face and shoulders. She self-consciously tries to gain some control, but she has long learned there was no taming her hair.

“You must be the witch” he states before returning his attention back to the book, beckoning her to him.

“Y…yes…I am Gizelle,” she responds, her hands dropping to her sides.

“Markus” he nods and Gizelle walks over to the table.

The book was an old ledger about magical beings. It had been compiled long before the war and it was several centuries old. The pages were yellowed and waxy to the touch.

Gizelle frowns, coming to a halt next to Markus, her eyes glued to the open page. It was an illustration or at least a presentation of what a Fae looks like. All Gizelle knew about the Fae was that they were responsible for the war that ripped the world apart and that they were all dead, or were supposed to be. Then she gasps, making the connection immediately. “She is a fae,” she whispers, “but how? It is not possible…”

Gizelle turned to look at Markus and noticed he was looking at her intently, his brown eyes darkening by the intensity of his gaze.

“I don’t know,” Markus shrugs honestly, “but she needs our help, she doesn't know what she is. We will have to teach her and guide her.”

“We? I don’t understand…”

Markus watches Gizelle, he could feel her apprehension and sense her hesitation. Which he found odd, as a witch she should have a natural inborn instinct to protect a Fae. Unless..