09 | Coriakin's Island

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WALKING IN THE WIND
ix. CORIAKIN'S ISLAND

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  ON A QUAINT ISLAND, nothing grander than a slip of sand, really, existed an unseen landlord and unseen creatures with horrible breaths and an unseen house whose hallways seemed to breathe

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  ON A QUAINT ISLAND, nothing grander than a slip of sand, really, existed an unseen landlord and unseen creatures with horrible breaths and an unseen house whose hallways seemed to breathe. With one footfall, inhale. The next, they exhaled.

  "Where is everyone?" whispered Lucy.

  "Getting more sleep than us, I gather," Hope whispered back.

  The peace was giving them a false sense of security, however. The House of the Oppressor was dim, with winding green and gold decor and glistening chandlers that winked at them in passing. There were no guests nor house pets to mewl and squeal at the strangers. Each of the grand doors along their path was closed... all except one, suspiciously cracked, at the end of the corridor.

  Whether it was a sign from Aslan or a ribbon for their caskets, the girls wandered inside.

  Dozens— no, thousands of books filled the office space. On a wooden lectern in the center, an old book was presented beneath a cape of golden light that came from an unknown source. Certainly not light bulbs, not sunlight either. Magic, undoubtedly. They could feel it oozing around them, waiting to be played with.

  Hope could spend the next three lifetimes scouring through those dust-lined books, but she was most interested in the old book on the lectern, for its title was completely scrambled. She came closer, touched the mismatched letters gently. It looked like it should fall apart upon touch; however, it was sturdy. Still, the letters didn't change.

  At last, she rubbed her eyes and blew a delicate puff of air. The letters on the cover waltzed into position, swirling around gleefully as intricate branches decorated the remaining empty space.

  The Book of Incantations, it read.

  "Curiouser and curiouser," Hope marveled.

  "You don't suppose a witch resides here, do you?" Lucy asked, less nervous and more annoyed, if anything, by that thought. "Takes me back to when I was young."

  Hope turned in search of other lifeforms nearby, but alas, they were all alone. "You are young, Lu."

  "No need to remind me of it," Lucy mumbled, but Hope didn't hear her over the sound of the pages flipping. Magic coughed through the book's spine. Her smile returned. "A spell that cureth headache... A forgetting spell... A healing spell..."

  "A spell for curing cramps! Where has that been all my life? Ooh, a spell for turning a human head into a donkey head?" Hope laughed.

Walking in the Wind ↠ Edmund PevensieStories to obsess over. Discover now