Zayda's Quest - Beginnings

The first chapter of my novel.

The night was dark. Lightening bolted across the sky followed by bombs of thunder that rumbled setting the earth to tremble. A small girl sat in the alcove of her window seat hidden behind the veil of white curtains that fluttered in the wisp of air that seeped in the cracks around the window. Her lips pressed together in determination as she watched the sky writhe. Flashes of lightning showed a purple sky bruised by the torment of the weather.
Rain pelted the window lashing at the pane with a brutalness that had the hairs on her wee arms standing and rippling as tremors pulsed through her body.

Somewhere out there her mom and dad had gone. They had been called out to some social function that could ‘hopefully propel them into something great’ they told her. Whatever it was, had seemed important. Both her mom and dad had vibrated with a vibrant, brilliantly coloured energy. When they had hugged her, Zayda had seen a fireworks of colours bloom in her mind. That had her grinning along with them.

The weather had been clear then. The sun dipping below the horizon setting the sun in a golden halo that danced off the darkening clouds that began to patch the sky. The sky flared with colour and hope.

Despite the happiness, the wee girl had sensed a glimmer of something dark that seemed to hang like those very clouds around the edge of their excitement. She bit her lip not wanting to mar the moment, but now as she sat watching the storm, she could not help worrying about that darkness. The tightness of dread held her heart captive as she pressed her hand to the pane of glass.

She pulled her legs below the hem of her flannel nightgown hiding her toes as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms trying to chase the chill from her body. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. It was this tight, sickening feeling that had her crawling out of bed and sitting here behind the hazy veil of curtains that hung just outside the window’s seat. It was usually a cozy nook, perfect for reading, but tonight her emotions were too stirred up and she could not sleep.

What did it mean? Were they in danger? Had she done the right thing by not saying anything? Who would believe her anyway? She was only seven. If she said anything they would simply brush it off as the sensitiveness of a child not wanting her parents to go out for a long awaited evening.
She bit down into her lip drawing blood as the storm raged on.

With each thrash of lightning and boom of thunder she tensed and tried to see out through the glazed window. She willed her parents to come home safely.

Just after midnight lights flickered on in the hallway outside her room. She heard footsteps and crept to the door of her room to press her ear to the cool wood.She could make out muffled voices. Two she knew well, but there were others that were completely unknown.

Did she hear crying?

After what felt like an age, she heard footsteps coming closer, she scrambled back into bed not wanting to be caught.

She pulled the sheets up to her neck and strained her ears to listen to muffled voices from the hall.

The word ‘accident’ carried over the air and cut into her like a razored blade. She bolted upright and stared at the door. Her breath suspended as her heartbeat ramped up flooding her ears with a pounding that rivaled the storm.

Unable to stay away, she had thrown off the covers and tiptoed to the door. Her hand touched the handle then stopped as more words skittered over her prickling skin.

“There are dangerous forces lurking, Eliza. The child needs to be kept safe. Her parents and Uncle were in that car…. And I don’t think it was just some random accident. I think they were targeted. I can feel bad energy rising and I don’t believe it will stop any time soon.”

“Oh, Jeb…”

“I know Eliza, but we’re not her family and we can’t protect her like The Aunts can. She’ll be safe and loved there and they’ll be able to teach her things she needs to know - how to protect herself, how to navigate in a world of prejudice, how to manage her gifts. We can’t do that… we can’t begin to understand how to protect her from those who will hate her for being who she is. We need to let her go to them.”

She could hear quiet sobbing.

“I’m sorry Eliza. But we’re not meant to keep her. It’s the only safe way and Mrs. Gallagher was adamant about this…. And I believe her. Believe her, deep in my bones.”

Through snuffling she heard, “Yes, you’re right, but she’s so young.”

“She is, but I have a feeling this situation will awaken those gifts she has and the sooner she goes, the better. Zayda will need the Aunts… and they will need her.”

“We need to tell her…”

“No, we’ll wait until the morning. Let her sleep. She’ll need it before she has to deal with the loss…”

“Well, I’ll check on her anyway.”

Hushed Footsteps made their way to her door. The girl flew back to her bed and through the covers over her head. She heard the door open and silent feet head towards her. A gentle hand rubbed over her covered shoulder and Zayda gasped at the painful, bruised colours that flooded through her.

“Oh, little one,” the soft old voice of Mrs. Adams smoothed over her. “Don’t cry, Zayda girl.”

Zayda sprang up and fell into the arms of the old woman who held her tightly. Her sobs drowned out the woman’s kind words that tried to comfort her.

**
Within days Zayda had arrived at the doorstep of the Aunts.

Despite the pain of loss, Zayda enjoyed exploring the small, sea side village. The sights and sounds had a calming effect on her frazzled nerves and the Aunts had done well to provide her with a soft place to land.

It was not long before things began to change and there was no hiding who and what she was.

Zayda stopped to touch the flowers growing in the little window box. The Aunts walked on. She bent over out of view letting the petals tickle her cheek. Her ears perked at the voices that rose above her.

“I hear she’s an orphan.”

“Poor thing.”

“I heard her parents were killed in a car accident.”

A snort cut the air before an annoyingly high pitched voice said, “she was probably mad at them and caused the accident herself. She is a witch, you know.”

The others fell silent.

Zayda straightened up and stared over at the small group not far from her. Three women and a little girl. One of the women had wrapped her arm around the girl as if to shield her.

Colours seeped into Zayda’s mind. Dark and ominous like a snake coiling browns, greens, with spiteful yellow eyes. Zayda glared at the woman who was radiating the strongest of these colours. Fear and distrust assailed her. She let her amber eyes bore into the woman.

Meeting her gaze the woman pulled her daughter closer and stepped back as if assaulted.

The colours spiked. Zayda could feel the smooth ripples of snake skin move over her own tanned forearms and settle on shoulders.

“Mama it’s the witch,” the little blonde girl cried out, pointing at Zayda.

“Hush, now Darla. We best go before she casts some spell on us.” The woman hissed and without another word to the others, she whisked her daughter off and away.

Zayda kept staring. Her eyes were boldly fierce.

In their hurry, the woman and her daughter both tripped on the pavement. The woman stumbled and managed not to fall, but her daughter skidded out along the ground, then toppled over the curb. Her mother dropped the bags of groceries she had been carrying to grab her daughter before she rolled out into the road. A car whooshed by as the woman let out a scream.

The girl began to wail as her mother hoisted her back up and brushed the dirt from her pretty dress.

“Mama, my stockings are ripped,” the little girl wailed.

Ignoring her daughter, the woman scrambled to grab the groceries that had tumbled out over the sidewalk. In her hurry, she left the eggs. Their broken shells, whites and yolks marring the cardboard packaging as it glistened in the noon day sun.

When Zayda saw the little girl look back, she twisted her lips up into a smirk. The fierce look faded and in its place was satisfaction.

Turning away, she hurried after the Aunts who had turned and were waiting for her.

She could read the concern etched into their old faces. Even at seven. she knew she had stepped beyond her reach. Satisfaction faded and in its place a dark hole ripped at her heart. Her steps slowed as she caught her bottom lip with her teeth.

Aunt Lydia tsked and shook her head. Her look morphed into thoughtful consideration. “Come child, you have much to learn.”

The words were a balm instead of the blaze Zayda had been expecting.

She glanced at Aunt Jess. The older woman’s lips were pursed tightly as if restraining a laugh. Her eyes sparkled and danced with mischief. She gave Zayda a wink, then clamped her lips together and nodded as she murmured, “yes, much to learn.”

Zayda clamped her own lips together to restrain the answering smile that bubbbled up. It would not do for Aunt Lydia to see her joyful. She needed to practice being a proper young lady.

“We’d best start sooner, than later sister dear. Seems our wee charge will need much guidance if she is to control her emotions.”

“Too true. One must control our emotions. Particularly if we are to make our way through the valley of prejudice and small minded pettiness.”

“Oh, sister,” Aunt Lydia tsked again.

Aunt Jess’s smile found its way to her lips and the warm glow of it pulled Zayda forward. “Come child, seems we had best head home for some lessons.”

Zayda took her place between the two older women who walked with such purpose you’d think they owned the town despite the flickering glances from everyone they passed. Everyone gave them a wide berth.

Aunt Jess took pleasure in calling out each person’s name and saying hello. Aunt Lydia merely smiled.

Zayda felt the glow of family flicker to life as she took Aunt Jess’s hand. A kaleidoscope of colours swirled and a glance at the older woman’s face got her a wink and a squeeze of her tiny hand.

She didn’t feel so lost or alone anymore.


**
Once all the groceries had been put away and the tea made. They all settled in at the wide kitchen table to nibble on the fresh scones Aunt Lydia had made earlier that morning.

“Now, Zayda dear, the most important element in any good casting is love.”

“Love?” Zayda looked over at her Aunt Jess, who smiled at her.

“Yes, my girl. Love. It makes the magic work…better.”

“All things work better with Love,” Aunt Lydia said as she joined them in the work room.

Zayda wrinkled up her nose and pursed her lips.

“Oh, that’s very true,” Aunt Jess said. “When you put your heart and soul into the making and conjuring the magic knows -“

“And in that knowing, it works deeper. Any big emotion generates deeper results. That is why you should never cast when you are angry. Witches do not cause harm.”

Zayda rubbed at her heart remembering the tear that had pulled at her painfully earlier that day on the street. She remembered the woman’s cruel words and the pain they had caused her.

“And if they do, their own body will take on some of that negative energy.”

Zayda wriggled self consciously on the stool and let her legs swing out. “What’s that?”

“It’s like a burn. The darker the emotion, like hate and anger, the deeper and more severe the burn.” Aunt Jess met and held her gaze.

Zayda nodded, giving her heart another rub before letting her hand drop away. “Can you see it?”

“Not always, Sweetling. Sometimes the burn or little tears happen deep inside. Especially those ones that feel hurt before we retaliate. Those are the ones we must guard against. They cause the deepest pain to ourselves. It’s like drinking poison when we really want the other to feel the pain. It kind of backfires.”

“So what do we do… instead?” Zayda asked as she did not want to experience that tearing at her heart again.

“Did your mama not teach…” Aunt Lydia let her voice trailed away as a wave of sadness engulfed the room. Zayda sat still. Her eyes welled with tears.

“It’s okay, Sweetling.” Aunt Jess said as she reached over to cup Zayda’s cheek and wipe away a few of her tears. “You are much too young.”

The touch seemed to brighten Zayda and she sparkled as she said, “I’m old enough now.”

“You are.” Aunt Jess said her smile was kind.

Zayda’s smile returned as she gave a determined sniff. She began to swing her legs again as excitement bubbled up.

“Can you teach me all that mama knew about magic?”

“We can and we will.” Aunt Lydia said as she opened the biggest book Zayda had ever seen. “This is our family’s grimoire. It contains all the Gallagher family secrets and spells.”

Zayda leaned forward and seemed to absorb the pages as she reached forward to touch the well worn pages.

And so began Zayda’s education. The ones she learned in secret. The ones that made the villagers nervous.

She learned of crystals and their energies. She learned of herbal medicines and concoctions. She learned of charms. And she learned to practice under the watchful eye of the Aunts in the secrecy of their home.

“Mundanes don’t use magic and it scares them.” Aunt Lydia whispered. “We practice our craft away from their prying eyes.”

“Some people have caused witches harm in the past and I dare say, they will do so again if they feel we have over stepped our place.” Aunt Jess warned.

“But they don’t harm you.” Zayda said.

“No, but we have earned our place here.”

“And we are needed.” Aunt Jess said with a mischievous smile.

“What do you do?” Zayda asked leaning forward to catch every word.

“We meddle.”

“Meddle?”

The Aunts shared a smile between them, but said nothing more.



Word Count = 2,700 words.