The Beginning Of The End

Chapter 9

I somehow found myself in front of the wall that Jaylon somehow was able to open to enter the chambers of the silver coven. I stood there for a minute, breathing heavily, the tears drying on my face now.

"Louisa." I heard his voice behind me and without turning around to look, I waved my hand over the wall. I didn't even mean to do it really, it was like something, the witch in me perhaps, took over and did what needed to be done. I was in the circular room in a moment, standing in front of the Sylvester door. What if there had been some mistake? What if I wasn't really a witch at all and it was all just a big joke?

I heard Jaylon coming through the door to the room and pressed my hand against the Sylvester door, not even waiting for it to open fully before I full myself inside and shoved the door closed again.

I leaned against it, breathing heavily. On the other side, I could hear Jaylon calling to me. He sounded upset, maybe a little angry.

Not wanting to listen to him anymore, I straightened up and walked down the stone hallway that was lit by bright torches set in the walls. Wow, this place must be really old.

I found myself in a small circular room, much like the one with the twelve family doors, only this one had furnishings. There were tapestries and paintings on the walls, and a big, round table in the middle with eight mismatching chairs around it. Around the outside of the room, between the three doors and the entrance where this hallway met the room, were old, squishy armchairs and sofas with colourful throws and cushions.

I went to the first door and pushed it open, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn't though, I suppose it didn't need to be as the only people that could come in here were family members.

On the other side of the door was a library, though much, much smaller than the one upstairs. It had shelves around the outside of the room, packed full of books, and one up the middle separating the room in two. On one side was a table covered in books, looking like someone had just left them there five minutes ago. I looked around, half expecting some great aunt or ancestor to pop out from behind a bookshelf and scare me.

On the other side of the library were a couple of armchairs on either side of a coffee table. There was a small stack of books on the coffee table, and sitting right on top of the books was a teacup. I walked over and picked it up, confused. What was a teacup doing here?

It had the remains of tea leaves in the bottom, so maybe someone had left it behind when they left in a hurry, I thought.

Also on the coffee table was an envelope, and I picked it up gingerly. It was open, and I was able to easily slide out the thick piece of paper a letter had been written on. I was very eager to read it, but it seemed to be in another language. With a sigh, I dropped it on the table beside a deep purple candle, half burnt, and left this little library.

The next room was magical. Truly magical. There were rows and rows of glass shelves, and the room wasn't very big but there had to be at least sixty rows. And all along the rows were different items. In one rather large section there were hundreds and hundreds of gemstones, all sorted and placed beside a little table. There were crystal orbs, necklaces, bracelets, folded things made of cloth, random bits and pieces of what could have been described as treasure, coins, crowns, there were even instruments, mirrors, assortments of weapons, and so, so much more. This room was full of all kinds of things, some of which could have been classified as junk, but obviously can't have been, and some things that were so beautiful I wanted to stop and stare at them all day, and I would have if I hadn't been so eager to see what else there was.

I must have spent hours in that room, though I had no way of keeping track of the time. When I finally left, I headed into the last room, expecting to be amazed.

Compared to the previous room, it was rather disappointing. It was almost empty, aside from a ring of candles in the middle. There were marking scratched all over the walls and floors, symbols, letters in languages I didn't recognize or understand. At one end there was a table, cluttered with books, candles, gemstones, and all kinds of things.

I felt as though I shouldn't be in there without a purpose, so I quickly left, pulling the door shut behind me.

I suddenly felt bad for just running away from Jaylon the way I had. I had freaked out, that was all. And I had only known him for a few days, and though it was because of him that I had found out about this amazing witchy stuff and that I was one myself, he was also the guy that had kidnapped me and was not giving me a choice but to stay here.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my blonde hair out of my face and padded back down the stone hallway.

There was no door handle on this side of the door, not that there was one on the other side either, of course. I stood there for a few minutes, procrastinating, delaying having to face Jaylon, though I was telling myself I was trying to figure out how to open the door.

I pressed my palm against the door, something I had known I needed to do from when I had first stopped here, and waited as it swung open.

When I stepped out, I saw Jaylon sitting in the centre of the round room. He was cross-legged on the floor, a big book open in his lap. I took a deep breath and started towards him. He was so absorbed in the book that he still hadn't noticed me coming out of the Sylvester chamber.

"Jaylon," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I stopped near him. He looked up at me and immediately bounced to his feet, his book falling to the ground. Suddenly, I could feel it again. That connection, the one linking me to him, the one I had felt when he smiled at me up in his bedroom after I had cleaned up his hands.

He started towards me, one hand reached out, then stopped himself, seeming to take a great effort in doing so.

"Louisa," he said softly.

I nodded, tears in my eyes for some reason. I reached out a hand and as it neared him, a tingling started in my fingers, spreading up my arm. Slowly, he reached his own arm out, stretching to meet mine. When his fingertips touched mine, it was like there was a burst of fire between us, and then my entire body was on fire, but it wasn't a bad kind of fire. It was warm, comforting, safe, but at the same time exciting and... and something I wanted more than anything.

Before I could stop myself, I had closed that gap between us and I was in his arms, burying my face in his chest and letting the fire envelope the both of us together in a burning embrace.