Page 37 of Secrets of the Forgotten Heir

On the magical front, I was feeling pretty tired. It had been a long time since I’d felt so many strong emotions cascading into me and it was tough. That was more than enough to remind me why I’d left all those years ago. I’d been working hard on my shields for a long time, and I was grateful for that now, but the shields still didn’t stop the pounding in my head. I pushed the pain aside with effort.

‘So, what do you think?’ I asked Eva as we walked. ‘Will this Jacobson guy talk to us about the Eternal Flame?’ She trotted beside me, tail wagging faintly. ‘Do you think heeven knows anything about the Eternal Flames?’ I added with a grimace.

Eva did not respond, not in words, though she snorted in a way that implied she thought my optimism was laughable. I was getting judged by a dog. Again.

Old Jacobson might know nothing about the Flames, and even if he did he might not know there was one in Witchlight Cove. Witchlight was a local term for the Eternal Flame, so the name of the village wasn’t a huge giveaway to other supernaturals.

From the books I’d read and the lessons I’d learned from my mother – sandwiched between my fighting training – I’d discovered the Flames’ history. There were twelve of them, each one hidden in a town or village, though the exact locations were unknown. The general regions were well documented, and I knew they were spread across the continents, but that was it. If I’d wanted to, I could have narrowed it down a bit; after all, there were far fewer magical communities in the world than non-magical ones. But I’d only become interested in them when I’d wanted to remove myself from the magical community altogether.

If Old Jacobson kept to himself, maybe he knew nothing. Divulging the existence of the Eternal Flame wasn’t exactly the first thing the community did to newcomers.

Shingle’s End was exactly as its name described, at the far edge of the village where the beach changed from soft, white sands to harsh shingle stones. ‘Let’s walk up on the bank,’ I said to Eva, wanting to spare her paws. She moved to my right, onto the soft bank.

The sun was sinking on the horizon and I took a moment to soak in the view. There was something inherently magical in watching the sun disappear from the world. Those stunning hues of red and orange made it look like the sky was on fire, and all the while the sea was lapping on the beach, soothing me like nothing else with its rolling rush and roar.

This was home. This moment lived within me like thousands of the other sunsets I’d witnessed in my lifetime here. Like she knew that I needed it, Eva sat next to me and together we watched the sun take its final dip into the sea.

When it was finally gone, I walked on. It was only a dozen more paces until a small cottage came into view: the haunted house of Shingle’s End.

Given that Witchlight Cove is a magical village, it had always struck me as faintly ridiculous that anyone would call a house ‘haunted’. Here ghosts were a part of life – or death; we didn’t call houses with ghosts in them ‘haunted’, we simply called them houses. Although to be fair, ‘TheHouse With the Screaming Apparition Who Won’t Stop Singing Off-Key’ was a bit of a mouthful.

I remember playing Cherry-Knocking, or Knock Down Ginger as they called it in London, knocking on a door and running away before you could be seen. Trying to act brave, Ezra had always insisted on doing it, though his short, timid knocks barely made a sound before he bolted away.

Maddie was the braver one, pounding her small fist against the door before dashing off. We’d knocked on this particular door plenty of times and sometimes we’d sworn we heard music or voices; looking back now, I realised it was probably kids using the cottage to drink or smoke.

Either way, it had never looked lived in, and with all the beautiful homes nearby I couldn’t imagine someone choosing this particular ramshackle place to live in. They obviously had, however, because a light was glowing inside.

‘Ready for this?’ I asked Eva. ‘Just to warn you, I’m not sure if this witch is as friendly as Maddie and me. If I even count as a witch,’ I added wryly.

Eva pressed close to my leg and I swear she shuddered. I grimaced. ‘Honestly, your trembling doesn’t make me feel great.’ Apparently my dog was not a fan ofhaunted houses. Crime scenes and murder investigations? Absolutely fine.

This was a far cry from when she’d happily bolted away from me at Warren’s house even though a murder had taken place there. If Eva was nervous, there was probably good reason. She shuddered again and looked up at me as if to ask if I really wanted to do this.

‘I have to,’ I said. ‘We need to figure out what’s happened to the Flame. Time for some bravery, Eva. We mustn’t give up.’

Taking a few steadying breaths, I walked towards the door. The guy wasn’t a green witch, that was for sure because his garden was completely overgrown. Most of the weeds were waist-high and their stalks were brown and brittle. I hated to imagine what the back garden looked like if the front was this bad.

I heard music coming from inside the house – a piano – then it stopped abruptly. The old man knew I was there so there was no point in prevaricating. I knocked on the door. My instinct to run was strong but I told myself it was a reaction from my childhood, not a legitimate gut warning.

I held my breath, unsure why I was so worried. I doubted Old Jacobson had much magic because even witches with the most basic skills made their houses look decent and filled the garden with herbs and flowers to usein spells. This desolation was a show of strength. If I used that as a benchmark, he had no power at all.

I waited, my heart pounding. Finally, the door creaked open. ‘Mr Jacobson?’ I said. ‘Hi, my name is—’

‘How dare you disturb me!’ he snapped, before his eyes locked on mine and the blood drained from his face. He shook his head. ‘No!’

Oh-kay then. I stepped back and held up my hands. ‘I’m sorry, I wanted to ask you a couple of questions—’

‘No! No, you can’t be here! You can’t be here!’

Shields or not, his panic hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut and I staggered back. He was shaking, his grey beard trembling as his face quivered. The despair and anguish radiating from him was so intense that I felt it seeping into my very bones.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,’ I said desperately. ‘I wanted to ask if you knew anything about the Eternal—’

The door slammed shut and with it came a shockwave of green magic so strong that it flung me across the garden. Terrific: I love spontaneous flights.

Eva was caught in the blast too, hurled back by the same pale green ripples of light that had struck me and made the very earth tremble. She landed with a thud and gave a sharp whimper.

‘Eva!’ I scrambledto my feet as she staggered to hers then threw myself down next to her, desperately checking her for signs of injury. She yipped softly and licked my face to reassure me.

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