Witch in the Attic Claudy Conn-First2

  This book was given to Valerie kendle on instaFreebie.

  www.instafreebie.com

  Witch in the Attic

  By Claudy Conn

  Editor: Alicia Carmical

  Artist: Dawn Sullivan

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  About Claudy

  Books by Claudy

  Copyright Page

  WITCH IN THE ATTIC

  By Claudy Conn

  http://www. claudyconn. com

  Copyright © 2016 by Claudy Conn

  Editor: Alicia Carmical

  Artist: Dawn Sullivan

  All rights reserved

  Published in the United States of America

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords. com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  ~ One ~

  OUCH! DAMN, IF I DIDN’T land on my ass!

  Where the hell am I? Where did Gramps send me? Dusty, musty, ugh, and cobwebs! What that means is, spiders. There must be thousands of spiders!

  I may be a witch extraordinaire, but I don’t hang with spiders. They can’t be trusted. They bite. And they are dangerous because they bite.

  Right… so avoiding the webs, I did a quick scan of my surroundings. Looks like an attic. Where that attic might be, I haven’t a clue.

  You see, I am on the run and my grandfather just sent me through a portal to save me from Morlan’s grubby hands.

  Who is Morlan and why am I on the run? Well, here is the thing.

  Apparently, I am the ‘key. ’ It isn’t that I have a key. It isn’t that I can get a key. I am the frigging key!

  The key to what, you ask.

  Ah, a closely guarded chamber hidden in the mountains of my realm. It is the Chamber of Darkness and Forbidden Spells.

  That chamber was created by our realm’s Founding Fathers. It is impenetrable without the key.

  You see, we are a realm of immortal witches—made up of two covens—a Demon tribe of great numbers, a colony of Shifters, another of werewolves, and a smaller one of vampires. Until last year, we all lived in peaceful harmony. That should be a song, a ballad really, but I digress, which is another thing I do. War—civil war broke out. Everyone wants to control the Dark Chamber and can’t get into it without ‘the key’!

  Gramps always held the belief that there are things in the chamber no witch or warlock should ever be able to use. So long, long ago, he took steps to prevent just that.

  I wasn’t always the key. My father had been the key, would be still if it hadn’t been for the betrayal of someone he had thought a friend. Our secret had been guarded for centuries.

  Gramps said that when the chamber was created, he elected to gift his newborn, my father, with the ‘key gene. ’ That’s what he called it. No one knew. Supposedly, no one knew. But someone figured it out.

  When Morlan arrived in our realm—by some stroke of the fickle fates (who I have no great liking for), but again, digressing, right? Morlan decided he should rule.

  He challenged the Mandrinis Coven’s leader and won. That leader, Warlock Ballad, had been my Gramps’ closest friend.

  Arguments broke out from the mountain packs and tribes, and into the villages. Sides were taken, and coward Ballad, greedy Ballad, decided to buy his way into Morlan’s inner circle by giving away some of Gramps’ secrets he had figured out over the centuries. At least, that is what we assume from the evidence. One, the most important secret, was that my dad was the key.

  I wasn’t home when Morlan came.

  I walked into the house to find my father dying on the floor, and my mother and grandfather missing.

  That was only a week ago.

  I can still feel my dad’s life slipping away from me as I held his head in my lap, and begged him to hold on until Gramps could be found.

  That didn’t happen.

  He couldn’t hold on because Morlan had assassinated my immortal father with a Death Sword.

  Morlan’s plan was in full swing.

  I felt the tears collect again and spill over as the memory of those moments flooded my brain and settled in my gut.

  Dad was gone.

  Gramps had been trapped in battle, but he arrived hours after my father passed. We took him to the mountains and buried my father, as was fitting.

  We sat and talked about him and Gramps told me so many things I never knew. He had been in battle yes, but he had felt my dad’s death at the moment he passed. He was grieving, but he had the foresight to collect my mom and send her to safety.

  “Where is Mom? Every time I ask, you evade the question. Where is she…? Does she know about Dad, can I go to her now?”

  “I am afraid she knows. Dilly, your mom… is broken. I sent her to a safe haven I have been preparing for her.” He shook his head and I heard the constriction in his throat. “I don’t know what possessed me? I knew the moment Morlan arrived in our realm that he was evil. Why didn’t I banish him at once?”

  “Where is Mom?” I am tenacious. I know what is important and I stick to it.

  “I can’t tell you, but believe me, always believe me, she is safe.”

  “This is ridiculous. Why can’t I go to her? If she is safe, then I’ll be safe with her.”

  “No, he is watching. He is hoping you will go to her, child. I am sending you out of reach. As I have explained, when your father died, you immediately inherited and absorbed his gift. You are now ‘the key. ’ It is the reason Morlan murdered your father. He wants you for himself, and I believe he thinks he can make you willingly join him.”

  “No. This can’t be happening. Join him? There is only one thing Morlan will get from me and that is my Death Sword through his belly,” I shouted between body racking sobs.

  Gramps grabbed my shoulders. “No. You leave him to me, Dilly. You leave him to me.”

  We began jump transporting. He said we had to keep moving to stay out of Morlan’s sights. I knew what he was doing. He was creating a very special portal, and warding it against detection.

  What I didn’t expect was what he did next.

  Gramps twirled a finger and the atmosphere turned black, then condensed into a black hole the size of a barrel. It expanded and the sound it made was deafening. He shouted above the portal’s roar, “We have to keep you out of Morlan’s hands. Forgive me.”

  I always thought when the portal was ready, he would be coming with me, that somehow we would pick up Mom along the way. Wrong.

  So, here I am, in someone’s attic.

  Well, if Gramps thinks this is where I am hiding out—he hasn’t thought this thing through. I don’t hide and I’m not running, not from my dad’s murderer.

  I wasn’t built that way, and besides that, I wanted to end Morlan and achieve justice for my dad. Justice—revenge? I don’t care what you call it. Bottom line—I w
anted Morlan’s blood on my hands.

  The way I see it is simple. You take from me, I take from you.

  Also, at the moment, we needed every able-bodied Rucker witch on our side if we were going to beat Morlan and his coven.

  We had heard that Morlan had already formed a pact that would give him the advantage. He had enlisted the Demon tribe who were native to our realm and had, until now, lived in peace with us. I couldn’t imagine why they would throw in with Morlan, but if they really had, we would be seriously out-numbered.

  How will our coven survive? How will our Rucker Realm survive? I don’t know, but I do know that hiding away from the battle was not what I was trained to do.

  I was taught how to use my magical skills as a warrior. I had never been taught how to be the key. I wanted to fight with my coven to defend our homes, to defend our friends, and to give Morlan a slow death. I have a Death Sword. It was created for my dad, and is now mine, but I have no idea really how to use the blasted thing.

  I haven’t even had time to grieve for my dad, but I would, as soon as I took down his murderer.

  I looked around the dusty attic and reached out. I didn’t know if it would work, but we have a strong family bond, a link. I was hoping Mom would hear me call.

  I didn’t get through, but I did get a sense of her. I don’t know where she is, but even a small sense of her aura calmed me.

  I had to get my thoughts in order.

  Right now, apparently, I am a living, breathing Dark Chamber key.

  An honor, Gramps told me. Right, lucky me, I have been honored.

  There was something I could do. I could make my way to the chamber, open it, and find the spell to finish Morlan, but that would be against everything my dad stood for. So, in truth, I couldn’t do that.

  War is ugly. Everyone knows that. In any realm, at any time, it kills indiscriminately. War doesn’t solve a thing… ever.

  It only destroys friends and families. It pits us against one another for some unattainable goal, some dream, that is honestly out of reach and unrealistic.

  Morlan has a dream of being ruler of our realm at any cost. His promises and lies have won him many followers. Those followers are loyal to what I know is impossible. The cost matters. The way to victory matters.

  Our leading warlocks puffed up their chests as did Morlan’s warlocks. Bickering turned violent and so, of course, our realm was plunged into war.

  As it happens, anyone who controls the Dark Chamber, controls everything.

  Because I am now the key, I, alone, can open the door to the most powerful spells in the Universe, and who knows what else the chamber hides.

  I understand why Gramps sent me through the portal. I just don’t agree with his decision to do so. I don’t want to hide and I don’t want to be on the run. I want to stand with my coven and help them. I don’t want to go to war with the Mandrinis Coven. I want to destroy Morlan and bring our covens to the table. But first, I have to figure out how to create a portal to take me home, and I have never created a portal like that before.

  Gramps had told me during one of our talks, before he pushed me through the portal, that both covens, ours as well as the Mandrinis, would be after me for a way into the chamber. He said neither coven could allow that to happen.

  Right, so against my instincts, I see his point.

  Both major covens are at my back.

  Our coven has stooped to Morlan’s level. They are committing atrocities in the name of what they think is ‘good and right. ’ They believe ‘the end justifies the means. ’ I don’t. My family didn’t raise me to think that way.

  I jumped so high I nearly hit my head against the ceiling at the sound of a strong masculine voice calling out, “Zelda!”

  Even before I became the key, I was what is known in our realm as an über witch, with unusual speed and hearing. I was, I believed, at least three floors above the hotly dominant male voice I had heard. It sounded as though he were just outside the attic door.

  “He is an asswaffle!” a woman’s voice answered and then laughed. “I mean, what the hell is he doing?”

  Another female voice said, “He might be an asswaffle, but he is my asswaffle. Jeeves, what are you doing?”

  “I sense something, Sassy. Don’t you?” said another male voice, not so hot and I thought kinda young.

  “What? Wait… yes, magic,” a woman’s voice, the one who laid claim to the asswaffle. “Jeeves is right.”

  I had never heard the term, asswaffle. I liked it and covered my mouth as I snickered.

  “Well, duh, where the Goddess do you think we are? Witches, Shifters, magic!” said the voice belonging to the Zelda woman. “The house is filled with magic.”

  “This is different,” the asswaffle answered.

  I cloaked my magic and myself immediately.

  Whatever realm I had landed in, it was in the dwelling of Shifters and witches. I knew I was no longer in my Rucker Realm. Where I was, I hadn’t a clue, but I had to remain undetected.

  “It’s gone,” Jeeves, the asswaffle, said, “All gone.”

  “Yeah? So are we,” Zelda answered. “We are late.”

  I heard a door slam and hurried to open a window, not an ordinary window, but a magical one so I could have a look at the bodies that went with the voices.

  I wasn’t in time to see more than a young man bounce like a kangaroo before he got into some sort of vehicle. A beauty of a blonde got in with him, following the big truck already headed down a long driveway.

  We have vehicles in our realm, but they are really only used for fun. Magic transporting is so much faster. My dad and I liked to ride motorcycles.

  My heart ached. I would never ride with him ever again. I shook this off and told myself I had to make him proud. I had to do what he would want me to do. Keep the Dark Chamber safe from penetration. I also had to do what would help my state of mind, bide my time and destroy Morlan. Right, I had purpose and that kept my tears in check—for now.

  Time for fact gathering. What did I know so far? I was in a house of witches and Shifters.

  But which realm?

  Where would Gramps have sent me? Somewhere Morlan either didn’t know or care about. Somewhere Gramps may have visited back in the day?

  Yes. Think, Dilly.

  What realms did he talk about?

  Nothing. I got nothing. My brain was still too messed up. All I could think about was the vision of my world being torn apart by war and me… my father gone, my mother out of reach, and me—stuck in an attic.

  Added to that was the fact that our coven might have to deal with the Green Demons.

  How could we win against such odds? We had to. The alternative was unthinkable.

  The Green Demons lived in the West Mountains. They had always kept to themselves and we thought they were content with things the way they were. Why would they join with Morlan? Because he could be so charming and lie with expertise, that’s why.

  Would our community of werewolves and vampires throw in with him as well?

  Would our Shifters, who had always remained neutral and uninvolved with any but their own, now throw in with Morlan? It seemed unthinkable.

  I was certain of only one thing—the loyalty of the ‘Fusions’, who were the result of hundreds of years of love crossing over. I thought of them as hybrids—perfect beings. They were amongst the finest supernaturals our realm boasted. They were peacemakers, scientists, artists, and musicians, and I knew they were horrified by this war.

  As it happens, most of my friends aren’t witches, so many are so damn witchy—bitchy, but Fusions—oh yeah, great attitudes. I also had quite a few vampire friends, and I fervently hoped they too would remain neutral.

  In my realm, vamps are sustained by animal blood. Drinking the blood of any other supernaturals in our realm would make vampires dangerously ill. I learned in training that vamps in the human realm live off human blood, and for some reason, very often lost their compassion with their humanity. I
t isn’t so with our vamps. Wait! I just remembered.

  Humans. Gramps loved the Human Realm. He was always talking about his experiences while visiting there. Could he have sent me there? No?

  Would he? Gramps had always maintained that humans were unpredictable and intolerant. He wouldn’t want me to interact with unpredictable beings… would he?

  It hit me hard then and I was sure of it. Gramps had sent me into the Human Realm!

  How would knowing this help me?

  Not sure.

  Back to decision making. What did I need to do before anything else?

  Get back home and do my part to help against the Mandrinis and the Demon tribe. So, I had to work on my non-existent skill at portal creation.

  Just keeping Morlan out of the Dark Chamber wasn’t going to be enough. The Green Demons alone could wipe out hundreds of our community with their lethal numbers.

  My dad didn’t train me to be ‘the key’, but he and Gramps sure did train me to be a warrior. Wish they had trained me with the Death Sword.

  I called on it now. It had been my dad’s, but evidently, he hadn’t had a chance to call on it. He hadn’t realized he was in mortal danger.

  The sword appeared in my hand and I fisted it tightly. Heavy.

  I tried swiping it through the air and realized how clumsy I was. Okay, I needed to work on that.

  My witchy powers had just been amped up by turning into the key. Was that going to be enough to take down Morlan when I figured out how to return to Rucker?

  I am not the cocky sort. I like to deal in reality. So the answer to that is, I’m not sure, but I damn well mean to try.

  Dark Magic is a tricky thing. Our coven is one of light, but Gramps said that our family had built in gray areas that he instilled to help us in troubled times.

  Were my gray areas going to be strong enough to take on Morlan’s black sorcery? Will I need to go darker to fight his Black Magic? Maybe.

  Mom always said White Magic was stronger, and that the difference was the character of the person using the magic. Someone using Dark Magic would probably be ruthless and as such would have the upper hand. I was going to have to be ruthless, that fire, fighting fire thing.