Page 98 of The Witch and His Crow

‘Which head?’

I nudge him in the side, encouraging one of his luxuriously rich laughs to erupt from him.

It was so easy, slipping back into our flirtatious banter. It was as if Arwyn knew I needed the distraction from the grimoire in my pocket and the ripped-out page.

We wrapped around the outer grounds, opposite to where the graveyard was. I recognised the view, although it was warped since I was usually looking down at it. One quick glance up towards the castle, and I could see our old bedroom window. It was so high that vertigo assaulted me as I looked up.

‘Do you know the importance of tonight?’ Arwyn asked, fingers drumming on my side as he navigated us forwards. A thin layer of mist clung to the ground, the overgrown grass damp from evening dew.

‘I should say yes, but then I’d be lying.’ If there was a clue, then whatever Arwyn was going to show me was, somehow, related to my mother.

‘It’s well documented that on the end of the second week, your parents returned from their third trial to discover their room?—’

‘Burned.’ I knew the story well, as every witch partaking in the Witch Trials, did. ‘The other contestants who survived the Trial weren’t happy with my mother’s success, so for the first time in the Witch Trial’s history, they banded together to kill her.’

I clutched at my chest, recognising the discomfort of talking about her so openly. But it was easy with Arwyn, like he could coax light from shadows with his presence alone. I wondered if that was the night my mother took Jaz’s mother’s life.

‘I’d say you and your mother have that in common then,’ Arwyn said. ‘There are obvious lines of symmetry between her experience and yours.’

It should’ve made me sick. Should’ve made me rage at knowing such an event occurred. And yet the opposite happened. I felt, in that moment, close to my mother. Her presence was imprinted in everything around me.

I was so deep in my thoughts, Arwyn didn’t question my silence.

‘So you don’tneedme to tell you what happened next for them, but I will.’ I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing Arwyn to control where we stepped whilst taking the lead on the story. ‘They were both forced out into the grounds. It was here, under that very tree, where they both took refuge.’ His arm gestured forwards to a grove of willow trees. There, long fingers of leaf and vine hung like a curtain which shrouded what hid within.

Arwyn released his hold of me, stepped forwards and swept a portion of the willow away. ‘After you.’

‘Is it safe?’ I wrapped my arms around myself, looking back to the glow of the castle, wondering how many witches were watching. ‘If you know this story, others will too.’

‘Except those other witches have already been here, night after night, searching for the clue. But what they didn’t account for was how knotted you and your mother’s experience is. Where they’ve looked for the clue on previous nights with no meaning, I know the importance of this night for your parents. As do you.’

I took warmth in knowing Arwyn studied my parents’ time. It felt, for the first time, that someone other than I was trying to keep their memory alive.

Arwyn gestured for me to pass him again. I did so, ready to forget the world and relive my parent’s very movements. As I passed Arwyn, he leaned in and whispered. ‘And since when have you worried if the dark is safe, Hector? If anyone could face it, it would be you.’

Perhaps he caught my smile, or maybe the shrouding dark coated it. Either way, I let it slice across my face as I entered the blanket of darkness.

It made sense why my parents hid here, from those who wanted to hurt them. Kill them. It was so dark, so impenetrable, that I couldn’t see my hand before my face. As Arwyn released the curtain of willow, darkness overcame me. I continued walking ahead, hyperaware of Arwyn’s footsteps behind me and the swaying brush of leaves against leaves. In the distance, I caught the sound of running water, likely from a stream. The air was fresh with the scent of pollen and damp bark. I felt as though the earth had swallowed me whole and kept me imprisoned in its deepest belly.

A hand snaked out of the dark and took mine. ‘Lay with me.’

Three little words and I swore they upended my world.

‘Haven’t you had your fill?’ I asked, enjoying the dark and the way it made us rely on tone and pitch of a voice, rather than the nuances of facial expressions.

Arwyn stepped close, the warmth of his body and the hardness of his presence, a pillar of support in the dark. ‘As much as the idea of devouring you again excites me, little kitty, no. My request isn’t nefarious.’ Disappointment rose its ugly head, if only for a second. ‘At least not yet.’

‘Promise?’ I asked.

‘We’ll see.’

Arwyn used his hands to guide me to the ground. Side by side, outstretched across blades of grass and roots of willow, we laid down. His body barely brushed mine, but he kept his fingers a hairbreadth away from mine. I felt like a schoolboy again, toying with the idea of taking the hand of a crush, whilst pondering if they felt the same. It was exciting, it was thrilling, and most of all, it was exactly like the story of my mother and father.

‘I think I know why tonight is special,’ I said to the dark, facing the endless expanse above me as the wind sung beautiful melodies through the shifting willow.

‘Tell me, Hector,’ Arwyn said, his voice deep as the dark surrounding us. ‘I want to hear you say it.’

‘Because the night my parents were driven here…’ Tears stung at my eyes, some escaping down the sides of my cheeks. I had gone through my life without barely shedding a tear, until Arwyn. Since he’d barrelled his way into the orbit of my life, it was as if my emotions were no longer reliable. ‘…it was believed to be when they conceived me.’

---