The Kuthun Read online

  Copyright © 2014 by S. A. Carter

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the website below.

  Author/Publisher: S. A. Carter

  www.thekuthun.com

  Cover design by Creative Paramita

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  The Kuthun/S. A. Carter – 1st ed.

  For my children,

  Angelina, Lily, Tyler and Jonah.

  Mon amour pour toi est éternal

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I wake from my nightmare with my mother’s scream still echoing through me, the pain threatening to tear me open and spew forth a black ooze that will consume me forever. My heart is hammering within my chest and a single tear makes its way down my face. It was only a dream. But it was so real. What is she trying to tell me?

  The dreams have been coming hard and fast for days now. Each night I am pulled back into the darkness and the pain, but this one was different. In this one my mother handed me something important.

  Before I can make sense of it my wolf-dog Magi jumps up onto the bed. She nuzzles my cheek affectionately, sensing something is wrong, and the warmth of her touch makes me feel better. ‘It’s alright girl, it was just another dream,’ I say, giving her pat. I push her soft snout away gently and yawn.

  As I reluctantly sit up I feel a tingle creep up my spine and my hair stirs, as if a slight wind has suddenly entered the room.

  ‘We have to talk, Shem,’ a familiar voice says.

  ‘Now, Ama?’ I respond tiredly, wishing that my dead great grandmother worked off a normal clock when visiting me from The Other Side.

  ‘Yes now,’ she says sharply. Her foot begins to tap against the wooden floor with impatience.

  Groaning loudly I force myself out of bed, finally looking up to meet her eyes. Her scowl burns its way into my forehead. ‘Okay, I’m up,’ I grumble walking towards her, noticing that even in death she encompasses the quintessential image of femininity. Seventy-five years after her demise and Amaris Cole could still rival the screen sirens of the nineteen-forties.

  She turns on her heel with her usual feistiness and takes her seat by the bay window that overlooks the back garden. Warm light floods my room and I take a moment to breathe it in, trying to forget the dream where my mother’s ghost still lingers in my mind. I miss her so much, the loss of her still as raw as if it happened only yesterday.

  I take my seat beside her and she pierces me with her vivid green eyes—a female genetic Cole trait that separates us from the rest of the mortals.

  I fold my legs up underneath me before reluctantly apologising. ‘Sorry, Ama.’

  She glares at me a moment longer before her face softens. ‘What is it, Elena? What’s wrong? Did you have another dream?’ she asks concerned.

  I nod. ‘It was Mum again.’

  ‘Tell me what happened?’ she gently asks.

  I sigh. ‘She told me to find the light and handed me a small box, before she was pulled back into a dark nothingness. I tried to get to her but I couldn’t move.’

  She looks at me thoughtfully. ‘The light? She said that?’

  ‘Yes. Why? What does it mean?’

  ‘It may be significant. Did she say anything else?’

  Shaking my head I say, ‘No. That was all.’

  She nods softly, looking off into the distance, her mouth pursing to the side in concentration. ‘These dreams must mean something, Shem. We just have to figure out what that something is.’ She smiles warmly at me and I nod my head sadly.

  She squeezes my hand and diverts the conversation. ‘How’s Phoebe?’

  ‘Phoebe is great, Ama, but don’t change the subject.’

  ‘Well, I just want to make sure that Phoebe is taking care of you, that’s all,’ she responds, a smirk of amusement playing on her lips.

  She knows fully well that it would be me looking after Phoebe. I am the witch after all.

  Being a witch has its advantages but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I don’t go around carrying a wand like Harry Potter and shouting, ‘Expelliarmus!’ I don’t dance under a full moon, and I definitely can’t fly. In fact, it’s not often that I’ve had to use my magic at all. But to say I have lived a relatively normal life wouldn’t be being completely honest either. The Cole blood that runs through my veins gives me certain abilities that other people don’t have. It also means that I have had to learn certain skills to survive.

  Rolling my eyes I say, ‘Yes, she’s taking care of me.’ I bring one pyjama-clad knee up to my chest. ‘Now are you going to tell me why you’re here?’ I ask, not meaning to be so blunt.

  She straightens her back and her symmetrical eyebrows furrow. ‘Of course I did. Do you think I’m just some lonely spirit who has nothing better to do?’ She folds her arms and looks away from me with contempt.

  ‘Yep, that’s what I think. Now go on and tell me before I lose interest and Magi reminds me that it’s her breakfast you’re delaying?’ I reply dryly.

  She looks at Magi, gives her a smile, and for just an instant it looks like Magi smiles back. It was so strange that I thought I had imagined it.

  She clears her throat, smirking in spite of herself at my sassiness—a trait that she proudly says she passed on to me. ‘Fine. Well I’m here because there has been talk upstairs that the Venators are on the move.’

  The Venators—Puritan hunters and my family’s greatest enemy.

  ‘You must be careful now, Elena. I cannot say how close they are but they are a cunning bunch of zealots and I want you to be on your toes.’ Her expression is serious.

  Flashing her a cheeky grin I say, ‘What else are they talking about upstairs?’

  She lowers her gaze. ‘I’m not laughing, Elena Wisteria Moonheart Cole.’ She points her index finger at me. ‘This is serious!’

  Geez she’s feisty today. I roll my eyes. ‘Okay, okay. I promise that I will be extra careful, don’t worry.’

  She scoffs. ‘Don’t worry? Elena, I am your great grandmother. It is my job to worry about you.’

  ‘Ama, I know I have to be careful and I know that right now, somewhere out there, a Venator is trying to track me down. But I’m just really tired of being afraid. Can you understand that?’

  She sighs reluctantly and nods her head.

  I get up out of the chair, not wanting to talk anymore. ‘Are you coming down for breakfast?’ I ask
, knowing perfectly well that she only ever visits me in my room.

  She shakes her head. ‘No, I can’t. But give your Uncle Josiah a kiss from me, and Happy Birthday, Shem. Talk soon my sweet.’ She kisses my forehead and disappears with a wink. I smile sadly, remembering that it is in fact my sixteenth birthday today.

  The growling in my belly reminds me that I am famished. ‘Come on, Mags, let’s go eat,’ I say, ignoring the pain in my chest at celebrating another birthday without Mum.

  We head downstairs where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked croissants floats its way throughout the farmhouse, enticing my nostrils.

  As we turn the corner to the kitchen I blush, noticing that my aunt and uncle have put on a birthday breakfast for me. I’ve never been comfortable with being the centre of attention, preferring to stay under the radar whenever possible. Maybe that is what my curse has taught me.

  After giving them a hug I rub my hands together in anticipation of the meal before me. ‘Okay, Mags, what do you want first?’

  Magi doesn’t hesitate, she heads straight for the bacon already sitting in her bowl and inhales it all in seconds.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say with appreciation, as I pick at a warm croissant. ‘This is really nice, but you didn’t have to.’

  Uncle Jo shrugs. ‘We know. I told Lil that it wasn’t a big deal and that we could have just put cereal out, but you know how she is,’ he says sarcastically. Aunt Lily rolls her eyes and I shake my head laughing.

  I watch him holding his ritualistic morning mug of steaming hot coffee, the smell of which fills the entire room with its strong potency, and wonder how he could really be my uncle. His straight, sandy-brown hair is in direct contrast to my chocolate-coloured waves, and his hazel eyes don’t match the intensity of my green. He is tall and strong, standing out in a crowd, while I can walk through a sea of people and never be noticed. The one thing he does have though is the same heart and determination of my mother. Maybe I missed that gene?

  He jerks his head in the direction of the side cabinet where on top sits a beautifully wrapped present.

  I jump up excitedly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Open it up and see,’ Aunt Lily says as she wipes the front of her apron that has become synonymous with her love of baking.

  Unwrapping the present reveals a small velvet box and my breath catches sharply in my throat. The dream I had this morning permeates my mind. In it my mother hands me a small velvet box and says to me, ‘Elena, you must find the light.’

  It can’t be the same one…can it?

  I open the box gingerly and a feeling like someone giving me a big hug washes over me—the familiar scent of jasmine and lavender infused within it. Mum’s favourite flowers.

  Nestled delicately within the box lies the most precious charm I have ever seen. ‘Who left this?’ I ask him, my voice wavering slightly.

  ‘I assumed it was from Ama,’ he responds.

  ‘Oh. Yeah, you’re probably right,’ I answer hesitantly, knowing that Ama had to have been involved somehow. But the dream wasn’t just a coincidence either. Could Mum really have left this for me?

  He frowns. ‘Ellie, is everything alright?’

  ‘Huh? Oh sure. I just felt like I’ve seen this before that’s all.’

  Aunt Lily looks between us, frowning slightly, aware of our family history of supernatural abilities but never wanting to know more than that. As she said once to both Uncle Jo and I, ‘I understand the Cole blood runs through your veins and while I respect it I would prefer not to know too much about it if that’s alright.’

  We agreed and felt it would be safer for her if she didn’t know more than was necessary.

  I turn back to the gift, which catches the morning rays of the sun making it appear translucent, yet it exudes warmth from within as if someone has placed a handful of freshly popped popcorn into my palm.

  The charm is made out of a delicate crystal glass. It throws off the colours of sunset and catches the reflections of light that filter through the kitchen window. It is in the shape of a woman it seems, but instead of having hands and legs it looks as though the woman is dressed in a robe—her arms down by her sides and her limbs unseen. There is no face but for some reason I know this is a woman. I feel like I have seen her before…but where?

  I shut my eyes trying to recall the memory, but it seems as though it doesn’t want to be revealed for now. I frown and look up, noticing that Uncle Jo is staring at me intently.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asks concerned.

  I give him a light smile. ‘Yes, fine. I was just admiring how beautiful this charm is. It’s funny, but I feel as though I’ve seen this before. I just can’t seem to place it.’ I shrug with the distinct feeling I am missing something.

  He stares at me thoughtfully before placing his mug down on the counter top. ‘Well it may come back to you. How about you finish eating, give that dog of yours some more bacon before she engulfs us all with her drool, and get ready for school. I have a present for you outside when you’re ready.’ He winks and lays his hand on my shoulder as he walks past.

  Aunt Lily is leaning against the kitchen bench looking after Uncle Jo with a curious expression. ‘You know, he sometimes has this way of looking at you like he already knows what is going through your head,’ she says.

  ‘I know what you mean. That particular biological reaction seems to run in the family.’ I smile and throw Magi some more bacon before heading upstairs to get ready for school.

  Chapter 2

  I walk into my room and place the box with the charm in it on top of my antique dresser, where Audrey Hepburn is smiling down on me from upon the wall. I can’t shake the feeling that I know this charm somehow. While thinking about it I start to brush my hair.

  As if in a trance I peer down, mesmerised by its glistening form, and feel compelled to pick it up. I carefully pull it out of the box, watching the waves of colour dance within it as I rest it softly in my palm, my fist closes around it protectively. I shut my eyes.

  I reel back in shock as I open my eyes, finding myself in a swarm of people who are gathered in a village square of some sort. The outline of old, run-down buildings surrounding me on all sides.

  I see nothing but people all scrambling amongst one another—some shouting, others crying. The distinct smell of fear and violence hangs in the air and I look around me in panic, trying to make sense of where I could be.

  Without thinking I quickly turn to the man next to me and tap him on the shoulder but he doesn’t respond. I tap him again. ‘Excuse me sir, but where are we?’ I ask in a high pitched voice, bordering on hysteria. He doesn’t even acknowledge that I am there.

  What is going on? Where the bloody hell am I?

  I turn in confusion to the woman behind me. ‘Excuse me.’ She doesn’t even look at me or respond in any way. I wave a hand across her vision…nothing. They can’t see me.

  It then occurs to me that somehow, by magic I would assume, I have been teleported to another time and place. I look around for some understanding, for some clue as to why this has happened, and then it dawns on me…it must be the charm.

  I look down at it still nestled within my palm, curious as to its origin and the power it holds. A moment later my vision wanes and before I know what is happening my eyes close again.

  When I open them I am standing back in my room, with the hair brush in one hand and the charm in the other. Trembling I put the brush down and catch my reflection in the mirror—my skin looks pale and ghostly, and my green eyes have taken on the haunted look of someone who has been given a glimpse behind the veil between this world and the next.

  I drop the charm onto the dresser and shake my head in disbelief, taking slow deep breaths to stop the bile from rising. When I start to feel blood pumping back to parts of my body that a few seconds ago felt numb I exhale loudly.

  My mind can’t make sense of what just happened. All my magical abilities up until this point have been focused
predominately around spells—extrasensory perception; telekinesis; healing and regeneration. Never have I experienced teleportation before.

  Mum, what did you give me?

  Magi’s bark startles me back to reality. I walk over to the window and look out to see Magi sitting on her haunches, watching me with her head cocked to one side. With a turn and a wag of her tail she beckons me outside. I take a moment to centre myself, casting a grounding spell that dispels my jittery nerves, ‘Sateya shenay.’ The calming effect flows through me.

  I throw my hair into a make-do ponytail and quickly get dressed in my school uniform before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs, but not before I take one last look at the charm with an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu.

  I take the stairs two at a time. ‘Bye, Aunt Lily. Have a good day!’ I yell as I fly through the door.

  Outside the sun is shining and the air is crisp and fresh against my face. Feeling calmer but still slightly perplexed I make my way towards Uncle Jo’s shed, pushing the manic thoughts running through my head aside until I can make more sense of them.

  Magi comes bounding up to me with a wag of her tail and her tongue lolling out of her mouth. I give her a pat and round the corner of the house, passing Old Olsen as I go.

  Old Olsen is a very large, very old tree. He appeared shortly after my uncle bought the house a few years ago and has been standing silent and protective alongside the house ever since. To this day we still don’t know what species he is, stranger still is the humming sound that emanates from him whenever I stand close by. I figured that there must be insects living within his massive trunk and put it down to my own wild imagination, but the witch in me knows better than that. The witch in me knows that Old Olsen contains magic.

  Up ahead I see Uncle Jo standing in front of what appears to be a vintage bike and my heart picks up pace.

  ‘Hey, what’s going on here?’ I ask excitedly.

  ‘Well, I figured that since you are sixteen now, and seeing as you run almost everywhere, that it may be time for a change,’ he says smiling.

  My eyes take in the old looking bike worn with age. Its fat brown seat and wide gripped handle bars creating images of happy, old nuns riding through the hills with their habits waving in the breeze. Its light blue paint is chipped in places exuding a rustic feel, but overall the bike looks like it has been looked after by its previous owner. There is a big wicker basket on the front that is nostalgic of the nineteen-forties—my favourite era, and the pannier rack on the back is wide enough to double dink Phoebe if she was willing.