Obscuria

Chapter Eight - What Lies In The Attic

Without a second thought, I blurt out a spell.

"Enchanted blood, witches in bloom,

Undo magick in this room."

I mentally high five myself for being able to think of an incantation so quickly; maybe spell creation really does get easier with practice. As far as spells go, though, it's not the best - as in its effect, of course. Some things that have disappeared from my shelves fade back into existence, my bedsheets not back to blue, but almost a lilac colour. However, the cloth and paper are still scattered all over the floor, creating a horrible mess.

Okay, I wanted to experiment so I dyed my bedsheets a bit. That's why they're purple.

They might believe that, sure, considering how impulsive they know I am. And I'll clean up the mess on the floor right now so they don't see. My only real fear is that they'll see my bedsheets turn blue again: since the initial spell was accidental, it'll wear off.

"Where's Misty?" the voice of Mom asks from downstairs. "It's not like her to be alone for so long. Is she alive?"

"She's probably studying," says Dad. Oh, thank you, Dad, thank you so much for repeating my excuse! "She's got a new book for school. The Encyclopedia of Magick, if I remember right. It's for her history class."

"Hmm, yes," says Grandma snootily. "If that's the case then it's good that she's reading books for once, instead of obsessing over being the centre of attention."

Wow, screw you, Grandma.

But now that I think about it, I could honestly do with some affection right now. I shove the mess on the floor into my desk drawer; it overflows slightly, but it'll have to do. Desperate to leave this room and talk to them, to distract myself from my powers at least for a while, I slide the Encyclopedia under my bed, just in case anyone wants to read it, so they can't find it.

That's when a dark shimmer catches my eye.

What is that? Something else lies under the bed, something other than the book of magick. In the darkness, I can't see it well, so I wrap my fingers around it instead, getting the sensation of cold metal and the rough feeling of rust. The shape of it feels like an old key of sorts, and when I pull it out, I see that that's exactly what it is.

Hmm. Surely those moving truck guys would've moved this key instead of just putting my bed on top of it, right? Is this just another thing that's sometimes there, sometimes not? Weaving itself between our world and the Realm of the Vanished at the most convenient times?

I can't ignore these signs anymore, not now that I know magick is real. So I put the key in my pocket, just in case it comes in handy later. I sneak out of the room cautiously, almost anxiously, on the way to my family. The corridor outside my room now seems to have grown by a mile, yards and yards of walking just to get downstairs - but that isn't the thing I give much thought to.

At the far end of the hallway lies the staircase I saw on Monday, the staircase I was sure I'd imagined. Had it disappeared and reappeared upon my presence, like the key? Or is it always there, showing itself to nobody but people like me?

I instantly abandon the idea of talking to my family, instead deciding to see if I can unlock the door to the attic with the heavy key in my pocket. Unlike most of the stairs and floorboards in Obscuria Manor, this spiral staircase doesn't make so much as a squeak, but the boards still move under my weight. For some reason, I'm not worried about getting caught. It's as though the attic is calling me, luring me in like a siren, and no opposing force will ever be enough to stop it.

I reach the door at the top, pulling the rusty old key from my pocket and putting it in the lock; it's a perfect fit. I turn it in hopeful anticipation, knowing I should expect disappointment, should expect nothing but an empty loft, but I can't help my knees trembling with pure thrill. The heavy door unlocks and I push it open, more than prepared to meet the room on the other side.