Spellcaster series #4: The Virtuoso

Desperate Times

TRISTAN

Vicky tied Edward's wrists with a plastic cable. We sat him in a chair under a tree where she guarded. Jessie had been on the phone for half an hour, trying to get to Wynona.

"I'll be heading back to the Academy. Wynona isn't answering her calls," he finally announced. "You two continue to look for Heidi."

Jessie summoned a portal and disappeared through it. I turned to Vicky and Edward. The night breeze blew an icy chill as we stood under a tree outside of Lord Graham's dilapidated mansion. Edward eyed me through his lashes, a look of quiet hatred and fear.

I spoke calmly, "We'll keep you safe until your sister returns. In the mean time, we need to know where Dean Ryans is keeping Heidi."

"I'm not telling you anything." He finally voiced. Then a sneer crept on his face. "Perhaps you should look for her at the Lucky Orphans."

Vicky and I straightened ourselves. I took a few steps forward as the young dark Spellcaster involuntarily leaned back.

"Why there, Edward? What's there?"

"You'll see it for yourself."

~

I climbed up the steps to the porch. The front door was ajar. Inside was all darkness when I swung the it open, readying my wand. I lifted my boots as lightly as I could to avoid startling any of its residents—or the intruder.

Vicky and Edward remained where they were. I insisted to go alone. If anything happened to me, Vicky would still be able to escape.

The door creaked slightly and I made my way in. I crept my way around the kitchen, pointing my wand in front of me with the light of the Lunar illuminating its tip. The silence was loud. It was almost two in the morning, as shown on the grandfather clock in the drawing room. I might be walking into a trap.

Someday, I thought, this place would be the death of me.

I cleared the first storey and moved on to the second where the bedrooms were. Blood-stained handprints on the walls between the matron's bedroom and her daughters. I harnessed my energy.

A soft gasp behind me. I turned, startled. A young orphan I did not recognise stood in front of the staircase in the middle of the hallway, shivering. I lowered my wand to her pale face, brown eyes watching me while her lips trembled. Her cheeks were wet and shiny under the light of my wand.

I brought my finger to my lips. I was unsure if she knew who I was, whether she thought I was a friend or foe. I raised my eyebrows as I bent slightly, moving towards her as slowly as I could.

"I'm here to help," I whispered. "Go back into your room and do not come out."

The young girl nodded and darted off, her small bare feet lightly padding the wooden floor. She look barely older than four.

Behind me, coming from the matron's bedroom, I heard a sob. I straightened myself and leaned against the door. I knocked and spoke in a low voice.

"Mrs Tabitha? Are you all right?"

No answer.

"Mrs Tabitha? If you don't mind, I'm coming in."

I lifted my boot and kicked the door near the knob. The door burst open, chips of wood flew about. There was a heavy scent of iron that hung in the air, still and almost stale. Blood.

The matron was in her bed, her white quilt stained in dark red. Her skin was blanch and her eyes were wide open. Across her throat, her skin was split open—