"Who's there?" I say in a quavering voice. But there's no response, only a thick silence that hangs heavy in the air. My eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of movement, any clue as to who or what could be lurking inside. A cold sweat breaks out on my skin as I stare at the dark abyss under my bed. "It was a black hand! I'm sure of it," I think to myself, heart pounding.
I shudder at the thought of another hand, a white one with sharp fingers that closed around my ankles. "No, it can't be, warlocks can't enter Witchwood..." Fear grips me as I slowly approach the bed, but under it, there are only shadows. Scared, I decide to throw a nearby slipper under the bed and almost immediately, a high-pitched shriek echoes through the room.
"Shit!" I scream, backing myself against the wall.
The shadows under the bed move, and soon I see a silhouette, the figure of... "Who are you?" I ask, puzzled. A girl, maybe around seven years old, crawls out from beneath the bed. Her attire consists of a pointed black hat, a cream-coloured lacy dress with a high collar, white tights and elbow-length gloves in the same shade of black.
The girl stumbles out, rubbing her nose, with an undeniable blush on her little white face. She has hazel hair and large jet-black eyes. Her scrawny little body shudders, and she looks at me with teary eyes.
"You hit me with your slipper!" she says, smoothing her skirt.
I sigh, relieved. It's just a child! Weird-looking but a child. "I... I'm sorry, little girl," I say to her.
She takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring, and then lets out a sigh. "It's alright," she says, her expression softening. With a gentle smile, she reaches out and touches my hand. "I forgive you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Suddenly, the little girl pulls at my hand, causing me to bend down so I can see her face. She places her tiny hands gently on my shoulders and looks directly into my eyes. "I'm sorry too, Miss," she says, her voice small and sincere. "I was playin' hide-and-seek when you arrived, and I didn't know what to do. Would you forgive me, please?"
Her expression reassures me that she's genuinely sorry and only here by accident. "Sure, it's nothing to worry about," I reply with a smile. She smiles back at me, her large, jet-black eyes twinkling.
"You know, I cry in my room sometimes too," the little girl admits, and I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. So she had heard me cry earlier.
"Ah, well, it's okay. I'm better now," I say, straightening up with a smile. The little girl's face relaxes, and she seems more at ease.
"Sometimes I cry and cry for hours," she confides, "but it's okay because no one can hear me since I'm always alone." Hearing this makes my heart ache. She looks so sickly and sad, reminding me of myself in a way. Alone. Just so alone.
"I'm glad you're all better now," the girl says. "May I please sit on your bed?" I nod politely and help her climb up onto my bed.
We sit side by side. She looks around my room with wide eyes and then back at me.
"You have a very nice room," she says, settling down on the edge of my bed. I smile, curious about this unexpected visitor. "My room is better, though. I have more toys," the girl continues. "But what I like the most is playing hide-and-seek with Ursula."
I peer at the girl and ask, "Is Ursula your friend?" The girl's face lights up as she nods eagerly.
"Yes! She's my best friend and... well, she's also my only friend," she admits, looking down at her hands, sadness clouding her eyes for a moment. Then, as if struck by a brilliant idea, she looks up at me with renewed excitement. "Unless you want to be my friend! Do you? Please!"
I laugh at her earnestness, thinking how lonely she must be. "Of course, I'd love to be your friend. My name's Eileen, by the way."
Reaching out to shake her hand, I notice her hesitating, not knowing what to do. Her expression turns sombre, and she clutches her skirt tightly. She won't shake my hand.
"My... my mother won't let me touch people. It's dangerous," the girl reveals, her eyes filled with fear. "She doesn't let me play hide-and-seek either, and I shouldn't be talking to you... Did you hear that?"
Straining my ears, I try to listen for any sound, but all I can hear is silence. "No... Do you hear something?"
"She's near!" the girl exclaims, suddenly standing up and making her way towards the door. "I have to go now. It was so much fun, Eileen! Promise you won't tell anyone I was here, okay? Promise on your life!"
Her serious tone surprises me, considering her young age. But I nod in agreement, giving her my word. "I promise."
"Thank you, I'll visit again sometime" she whispers before slipping out of the room, leaving me with a mix of confusion and fascination about this strange encounter.
The door clicks shut behind the little girl, and I can't help but burst into laughter. The odd encounter at least cheered me up a bit, and I rub my face with the back of my hand to dry my tears. Suddenly, soft knocks sound on the door. I think it must be the little girl again, who maybe forgot something.
"Coming!" I call out, flinging open the door, certain I'm about to find the girl in the black hat. Instead, I find the tall, imposing figure of Leonora, still breathing heavily, probably after rushing from the banquet hall. Nyx is with her, staring at me with his mesmerising amber eyes.
"May I come in?" Leonora asks hesitantly.
I don't know how to feel. It's not Leonora's fault; it was Freya who crossed the line... But... A part of me feels like Leonora lied to me. If it's true that my mother is a murderer, why didn't she tell me before? Without saying a word, I just shrug and step back from the doorway to let them come in. Then I close the door behind them.
Leonora takes a seat on my bed and removes her crown. The flowers instantly wither as they lose contact with her head. The Spring Queen frowns, looking down. Nyx transforms back into a cat with a puff of black smoke and jumps into Leonora's lap. She strokes his head absentmindedly.
"Listen, Eileen," she begins, her voice shaky. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I shouldn't have left you with Freya."
Taking a few unsteady steps towards Leonora, I ask her the question that's been gnawing at me. "Is it true?" My voice trembles as I speak.
Leonora sits in tense silence, her brow furrowed deeply in thought. Nyx purrs gently, rubbing his head against her palm.
I press on, needing to know. "What Freya said... Is it true?"
She finally looks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Leonora sighs, her fingers still buried in Nyx's fur. "Yes, it's true."
An invisible hand punches me in the stomach. So, it's true. My mother was a murderer... This is far worse than the image I had painted of her in my mind. I always thought she had left us, but now it seems like she was hiding something far more sinister. And yet, if I already despised her, why does this revelation hurt me so deeply? Is it because a part of me still hoped for a different outcome?
Placing a hand on her chest, the Queen of Spring speaks softly. "Eileen, I'm so sorry. I feel terrible for leaving you alone with Freya. I shouldn't have done that."
"Tell me!" I insist, my heart pounding in my chest. "Is my mother really a murderer? A 'blood witch', as Freya called her?"
Why is this bothering me so much? I've never thought about my mother except to hate her for the state she left my father in. Long ago, I made peace with the fact that she abandoned us, that she was a bad person who didn't truly care about my father or myself. So why am I feeling angry right now? Perhaps it's because Leonora didn't tell me sooner, or at my father's omissions, or even at my own foolish behaviour at the party. Or maybe the whole situation is just messed up and I'm not handling it well.
My thoughts are interrupted by Leonora's soft voice. "Yes, Eileen. What Freya said is true."
Fuck. I'm the daughter of a murderous witch.
I gasp for air, as if an invisible hand is choking me. "No, it can't be…" A lone tear rolls down my cheek and is soon followed by a silent torrent I'm unable to control. "My mother murdered my grandmother? Her own mother?" The thought is unbearable. She was a monster. Finally, after all these years, I find out for certain what kind of person she was. My chest tightens and I struggle to breathe but I'm able to finally suppress my tears. No more crying. Not for her.
Leonora's weeping silently, her beautiful blue eyes clouded. She extends a hand to me, inviting me to sit on the bed next to her. I feel Nyx's eyes beckoning me too, his amber gaze full of empathy. Completely overwhelmed, I sit on the bed, and almost without realising it, lean on Leonora's shoulder. She strokes my hair gently, her touch soothing. I don't know how long we stay like this, but it's Leonora's voice that brings me out of my emotional haze.
"Freya will never speak to you like that again," she says harshly, her voice laced with anger. "I've had a few words with her. She'll regret what she did tonight." For a brief moment, Leonora's expression contorts into one of pure fierceness, her eyes narrowing and her jaw set. A twisted sense of satisfaction surges through me. She's got my back.
I nod, grateful for her support. As we sit there together, I try to process everything I've just learned about my mother. Part of me hates to admit that I'm disappointed. I guess, somewhere deep down, I thought perhaps my mother was a good person. Perhaps she didn't abandon me and Dad, but something was preventing her from being with us. But I never imagined that my mother was a criminal, capable of killing... her own mother. Did Dad know? How many things did he decide to hide from me? I've got a million questions swirling around in my head, and I don't know where to start.
"Freya said my mother was a blood witch," I say finally, my voice shaking slightly. "What does that mean?"
Leonora looks at me seriously. She turns on the bed to face me, tossing her thick blond hair to one side. "A blood witch is a witch who performs forbidden magic," she says. "Most witches in Witchwood consider it taboo, and it's something that's rarely talked about."
But I need to know more. "What kind of forbidden magic are we talking about?"
Leonora looks nervous as she starts whispering. "Eileen, I really shouldn't be discussing this." Her eyes dart around the room as if someone might be listening in. "Promise me you won't tell anyone I explained this to you."
"Promise," I agree, curiosity gnawing at me.
"Alright," Leonora says hesitantly, taking a deep breath. "You remember when you travelled to Wispwood, right? That magical place where all the Wisps live?"
I nod my head slowly, vividly recalling the eerie beauty of that world. The strange atmosphere and otherworldly feeling it gave me stays with me even now.
"Well," she continues, her voice barely more than a whisper, "Wisps can travel to our world too, but only if they're forced by a witch."
"How do you force a Wisp into our world?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
Leonora looks away for a moment, biting her lip, as if debating whether or not to reveal this secret. She finally meets my gaze again and says softly, "Eileen, if I tell you this... you must swear never to repeat it. They could hang me for simply sharing such knowledge."
A lump forms in my throat at the gravity of her words. I swallow hard and nod solemnly. "I promise, Leonora. I won't tell anyone."
Later I would regret asking in the first place.