Chapter 1

Stone was falling all around me, a relentless, deafening clatter of crumbling rock. The air, thick with dust and the metallic tang of damp earth, clawed at my lungs with every ragged breath. I knew I needed to keep running, my legs burning, propelled forward. The flicker of a distant light promised an exit.

But then, the chilling thought pierced through the haze of panic: my parents. I shouldn’t be so far ahead of them. They should be right behind me. I risked a glance over my shoulder, my heart hammering against my ribs. Nothing. Just an impenetrable cloud of dust and the ominous rumble of the collapsing tunnel. Where were they?

I stopped. The light of the exit was so close now, a beckoning beacon of safety just meters away. My chest burned, not from exertion, but from the gnawing terror of their absence. “Mum! Dad!” The cry ripped from my throat; the sound swallowed almost instantly by the groaning rock.

A tremor, more violent than any before, shook the very ground beneath me. The walls around me began to groan and buckle, sending fresh cascades of debris tumbling down. Parts of the roof, massive slabs of rock, detached themselves and crashed to the ground with sickening thuds, narrowly missing me. This was it. The final collapse.

I needed to go back. I had to find them. My legs turned, ready to plunge back into the darkness, to fight through the falling stone, to reach them. But before I could take a single step, strong, desperate hands grabbed me�"rough, calloused, hands�"pulling me backwards, away from the abyss, towards the blinding light of the exit.

“No!” I cried out, the desperate plea ripping through my throat, as I bolted upright in my bed, sticky with sweat. Tears, hot and stinging, streamed down my face. I gulped, taking deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm the frantic beat of my heart. The familiar scent of lavender from the sachet by my pillow, the reassuring weight of my quilt, the soft glow of the moon through my bedroom window �" these were my anchors. I wasn’t in Sandur, I wasn't trapped in that crumbling temple. I was home, in my bed. It was just a nightmare.

Just a nightmare. If only I could truly wake from the nightmare that was my life. The one where my parents were dead, lost in the collapse of the temple, and the crushing, undeniable truth that it was my fault.

The guilt was a living thing, a shadow that clung to me, whispered insidious accusations in the quiet hours of the night. They were excavating a temple in one of the many deserts of Sandur, one of the 3 continents that make up Maleficarum. I just wanted them to notice me for a change, I didn't mean to distract them. I don't know what happened one minute we were arguing and the next the entire temple was shaking. Somehow I made it out and they didn't and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life.

 

Annabelle, are you alright?” Millie my housekeeper calls from outside my door, “I thought I heard you cry out.”

“I’m fine Millie, just a bad dream. Go back to bed,” I reply, my voice a little rougher than I intended. Millie has been my rock this last few weeks; I don’t think I could have got through it all without her. She arranged our flight home, arranged the funerals for my parents and even arranged with my legal guardians, The Council of Argos, for me to be able to stay here in Zemur where I grew up. The Council was created in 1805 at the end of the Witches War and is made up of representatives from the 5 witch covens: Hamamelis, Hebane, Vernain, Datura and Artemisa, as well as a representative from the vampires and the werewolves commuities, the 3 main supernatural species on Maleficarum. The other species is Humans. They have no idea that the supernatural world exists, and the Council’s main aim is to make sure it stays that way.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you some tea?” Tea is Millie’s answer to everything, but then as she makes her own teas and imbues them with magic it’s not really that surprising, she is an amazing witch and people come from all over the world to buy her teas.

“I’m good Millie, it’s early, I’m going to try and get some more sleep.” I really need to start casting a silencing spell before bed, so I don’t disturb Millie with my nightmare. She believes, like everyone else, that my parents’ death was a tragic accident due to the temple being old and unstable and I couldn’t bear for her to find out the truth. I’ve had the same dream every night since my parents died. It's my punishment for not saving them, they were standing right next to me when the temple started to crumble. I should have got them out.

In the dream, the air in the ancient Temple of Whispers didn't just feel old and dusty; it crackled with an unseen energy, an oppressive weight that had nothing to do with unstable architecture. My parents, Mother with her hand resting gently on my shoulder, Father gesturing animatedly at me, had felt it too. I remember Mother's eyes, not wide with fear, but narrowed in recognition, a flash of grim understanding.

Then, not a crumble, but a shudder. My parents didn’t scream. They turned to me; their faces etched with a desperate urgency. Father shoved me back, a forceful push that sent me stumbling away from the epicentre of the burgeoning chaos. Mother, her eyes locked on mine, mouthed two words “Run, Anna.”

I closed my eyes, pressing the heels of my hands against them as if to rub away the haunting images. Millie’s belief in the tragic accident was a fragile shield, protecting her from a truth that would shatter her perception of me. 

I pick up my phone from my bedside table to message Sam, my best friend to see if she is awake.  Unlikely I know as it’s 2:30am, but she has been known to stay up all night reading science journals. I load up Chat Circle to see if she is online. But before I can check I receive a message from Matt, my other best friend.

 

“Hey Anna, what are you doing up?” his message popped up, followed by a casual smiley face.

 

“Bad dreams. What’s your excuse?”

 

His reply was almost instantaneous “History assignment, not all of us have been granted extension on all our assignments!” The words practically dripped with feigned indignation, even through text.

 

Quickly followed by:

 

“Sorry that was harsh, you've been through hell these last few weeks. Mr Fernsby’s assignment on the history of Vampires and Werewolves is tedious, I swear, he pulls these topics out of a hat”

 

“It’s fine Matt, not looking forward to that one,” I typed back, choosing my words carefully. “Do you think I can convince Millie to write it for me?” I bit back the truth, the fact that the entire essay, meticulously researched and perfectly formatted, was already sitting in my ‘Completed Academic’ folder. Matt could be incredibly competitive, especially when it came to grades. He absolutely loathed it when he wasn’t at the top, and sometimes, it was just easier to let him believe he had the upper hand, rather than deal with one of his infamous 'moods' �" a sulky, brooding silent treatment that could last for days.

 

“No chance” Matt replied

 

“Is this a private chat or can anyone join?” Sam asked, her digital voice practically dripping with amusement. Well, I guess that answers the question as to whether she is awake.

“Well technically it is a private chat unless like you, you know how to hack into them,” I typed back, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. Sam was a coding prodigy, her fingers could dance across a keyboard, breaching firewalls and cracking encryptions that would stump professional IT teams. She put most adults, even the ones with decades of experience, to shame.

 

“Well when you’ve got the ability you have to use it,” was Sam’s unapologetic reply, punctuated by a winking emoji.

“As long as you don’t hack into The Council of Argos’ servers again,” Matt weighed in, a note of genuine exasperation in his message. “You nearly got arrested last time, Sam!”

“I did not nearly get arrested!” Sam shot back. “In fact, they offered me a job in their IT department!”

“A job offer you turned down, mind you,” I messaged back, a spark of pride flickering within me. “It was all anyone could talk about for weeks!” The Council were still scratching their heads over how she’d managed to breach their firewalls. They had the entire, IT department working on understanding the exploit for months afterwards, pouring over logs and code. I think the only reason they didn’t actually arrest her, despite the severity of the breach, was because, they clearly haven’t given up on the idea of her working for them, and they have absolutely no idea how she did it, meaning they couldn't actually prove intent or method in a court of law.

 

“It’s not what I want to do, I want to be an astronaut and go to space, that would be way more fun that sitting in an office on a computer all day” Sam explained “anyway talking of The Council have you had any assignment from them recently?” She enquired

 

“No nothing recently, they have placed me on compassionate leave and have said I can take as much time as I need”. I was one of The Council's enforcers, though they prefer we use the title Arithor, we investigate claims of people breaking supernatural laws or any activities that could expose the supernatural world to the Humans.

 

“That sucks you could use something to keep you occupied, though I guess you could work on your school assignment, though knowing you, you've probably finished them all already", Sam typed back.

 

I smiled. She was right I was up to date with them though I would never admit, Millie kept me on a strict schedule when I wasn't attending school to make sure I didn’t fall behind. She’s a firm believer that everyone should have access to a good education. I’m luckier than most and am able to mix homeschooling with attending Whitsite High School, the local high school, depending on my schedule as an Arithor and whether my parents were in the country or on a dig site. Whilst my parents were travelling I would often stay at home in the care of Millie, but there were times when it was necessary for me to go with them. I only went on this last trip because they were worried about my behaviour which they said was not becoming of someone of my status. Like anyone cares what I do in my free time, I know I'm the High Priestess of my coven, but we are a coven of 16 and 17 old witches, it's not like the world is watching our every move.

 

"Is the coven still planning on meeting up tomorrow night at Laurel Bay?" I asked rather than respond to Sam's comment. Our coven is called Lucis and carries the same name as my parents coven, which was the last remaining Hamamelis coven in existence. It was destroyed before I was born, so I never got the chance to meet any of them. Our Coven is made up of a mix of descendants of the 5 witch original covens, however only myself, Sam and Matt can trace our ancestry directly to a Hamamelis coven. The other members in our coven are called Trixie. Kiernan, Teo, Wynn, Katana, Farren, Suki, Neva, Thorm and Ina.

 

"Yes", Matt replied.

 

"Cool, looking forward to seeing everyone, speak to you guys later" I closed the chat down, I haven’t seen the other members of my coven since the funerals, I just haven’t been able to face being around people. They have all been amazing sending me messages of support and allowing me to have my space, but as the High Priestess of our Coven I am considered to be the covens spiritual centre, offering emotional, spiritual and mental healing not the other way round. I get up and walk to the window, the grounds of our house cover several acres, the gardens have always been a sanctuary to me, a place where I could commune with the Goddess Gaia, but I have been avoiding them as I’m terrified of how Gaia will react to seeing me after I caused my parent death. She has one rule: “Harm None”. I am meant to be her Goddess Incarnate, her eyes and ears on this plane and I have broken her only rule, how am I meant to face her. Gaia is the creator of all living things and is considered the protector of the other gods and goddesses. 

I turn away from the window, closing the curtains. Sam was right. I could do with a distraction to keep my mind off the events of the last few weeks. I grabbed my laptop and sent an email to my boss Cyrus Fellowes, Head Arithor asking him if there were any assignments going locally. Hopefully he will come back with something in the morning.

I glance at the clock, urgh its only 3.30am, I climb into bed and pull the covers over my head and attempt to get some more sleep