All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or

dead, is purely coincidental.

Written by Carl Purcell

Edited by Jim Parsons

Cover Art by Robin Ludwig Designs

Text copyright © 2012 Carl Purcell

All Rights Reserved

Dedicated to Stacey; always one of my biggest supporters.

Chapter 1

The idea of hitting rock bottom in life is a myth. The truth is that, when you are sure things

can’t possibly get any worse, that is when they inevitably do. Rebecca was having a bad day – the

kind of day where you wish you had never got out of bed. She'd just come out of a little restaurant

where she'd applied for a job and the interview had gone terribly wrong. For one, she hadn't noticed

the red stain on her top that morning until she passed by a mirror in the restaurant. Then there was

the head chef who had interviewed her. He greeted her warmly in front of the late morning

customers and led her to a little office adjacent to the kitchen. The moment he'd closed the door

misogyny reared its ugly head.

“Alright, sweetheart...” he began. Rebecca knew right away how the interview was going to

end. He refused to believe a woman could ever work to the standards of his kitchen; Rebecca got

the feeling that if he, and not the manager, had spoken to her on the phone, she would not have had

the interview at all. The pinnacle of her abysmal failure was when she handed over her resume to

the head chef and noticed for the first time that only half of it was present. Her printer had run out

of ink half way through printing. This was the ninth job interview that had been the victim of some

blunder or another in the past two months. Her savings were getting thinner by the day and there

seemed little hope of ever getting a new job. She didn't know what she'd do if she couldn't find

something.

Rebecca truly believed she was at rock bottom as she stood at the pedestrian crossing,

waiting for the green walk sign. She wasn't sure what the big hold up was. Next to her was a man

snuffling loudly and hacking up one of his lungs into a blue and grey handkerchief. Across the road

was a little girl with her black hair in two braids. Rebecca thought it was strange that such a small

child was out on her own – not to mention crossing roads. The child was pushing the button

repeatedly, her head down and her eyes on her feet.

Just as the light changed and the three pedestrians moved across, a car came screeching

around the corner and drove straight at them. Rebecca stopped and took a step back; the gentleman

crossing near her ran right back onto the side walk. Rebecca was about to mutter something obscene

about the driver when she noticed the little girl. She had rushed onto the street and, at the sight of

the car, stopped dead in her tracks. The red sports car was on a direct collision course with her little

body and could not possibly stop in time.

Everything went quiet, muffled by the sound of her breathing and the loud beating of her

heart. Time slowed for Rebecca. She rushed forward with all the strength in her body. Without

pausing, she scooped up the little girl and dived out of the car's path. The two narrowly escaped

death and tumbled on the asphalt. Sounds became clear again, her heart still pounded but she

couldn’t hear that over her own deep gasps for breath; time had returned to its normal pace. She was

lying on the ground, sheltering the little girl who was shivering in terror. Son of a bitch! The

thoughts were like a reflex – the uncontrollable kick from a tap on the knee. Son of a bitch! Rebecca

was hardly aware of what had happened. She had moved with far more power and speed than she

ever knew she had. Now her muscles were tight and she was holding onto a little girl she didn’t

know. Rebecca heard the coughing man take the handkerchief away from his mouth a second and

begin to ask a question.

"Are you..." His voice was drowned out completely when the sports car careened to a

sudden halt up the road. The door opened and Rebecca looked up to see a man with no shoes, a

shaved head and covered completely by a heavy, black, buttoned up trench coat.

"Damn it!" He shouted and slammed his fist on the roof of his car. "Missed by a hair." He

came towards Rebecca and the girl and Rebecca felt a sense of foreboding as she helplessly

watched his threatening, purposeful strides. He had a look of wicked determination and he was

reaching into his coat pocket for something.

“You nearly killed us.” She said but it barely came out.

“You wouldn't have died. Not yet.”

Rebecca didn't need any more warning than that and got to her feet as quick as she could.

She glanced over to the man on the side-walk in time to see him fleeing the scene. He would not be

the knight in shining armour to come rushing to her rescue today. Rebecca took the girl's hand and

tried to pull her up. The little girl wouldn't, couldn't move. Her legs were jelly; her body wasn't

responding. Rebecca persisted, trying to pull the girl up with increasing desperation.

“Come on, you have to get up." She pleaded. The girl looked back at her with a silent, dazed

expression. She was frightened, confused and stunned: She had no idea why that car had nearly run

her over or why this strange woman was trying to drag her away. Rebecca looked at the driver

coming towards her. He took each step slowly, savouring every moment of Rebecca's fear. His hand

was no longer in his pocket. Now he was carrying a small blade. His eyes were fixed on them,

bearing his every malicious intent. Rebecca had no intention of finding out what plans he had, if he

ever got in range with that knife. Rebecca summoned all her strength a second time and lifted the

girl off the ground into her arms. She turned around and took a step away from the driver.

Immediately her left leg buckled under the weight and they both fell to the ground again. Rebecca

lifted herself up on her hands and saw that her leg was bleeding. For the first time she became

aware that she was hurting. Her hands felt grazed, her elbows bruised and her leg was cold. Every

painful sensation her adrenaline and her ignorance had kept at bay now flooded her body.

The driver was upon them now, smiling, knife held at the ready. He paused, his grin

transformed into a frustrated scowl. He looked up and Rebecca looked with him. A nondescript,

shining, navy sedan had come around the corner and stopped in front of them.

"Do you need a hand?" The driver of the sports car concealed the knife in his pocket and

extended the other hand to Rebecca. She looked up at him, unmoving and back at the sedan. The

door opened and another man stepped out.

"Get away from them!" he bawled.

The black lines tattooed down the right side of his face slithered like snakes as his jaw

moved. The false politeness the bald man had used crumbled and gave way to frustration and anger.

"You!" He took the knife from his pocket and raised it above his head. Rebecca shut her eyes

tight and shielded the little girl with her body. She turned away from him and braced herself for the

end.

The tattooed man drew his own weapon. He fired once and the driver of the sports car

stopped. He hit the ground after the second shot. Rebecca opened her eyes and looked around. Her

eyes locked with those of the corpse for a second - one second longer than she could stomach - and

then she turned away from it. No one made a sound; even the girl had stopped her whimpering. The

tattooed man picked up the body and placed it into the boot of his car. He locked it and came back

to the driver’s side door.

"You'd better get in," he said to Rebecca and waited.

Rebecca watched the newcomer. Every fibre of her body was urging her to run the other

way. She looked down the road. No one there. No where she could hide. The man still held his

weapon drawn and, no matter where Rebecca looked, her eyes always came back to it. Sometime in

the last few minutes, the world had stopped making sense. Rebecca was only certain of one thing:

she didn't want to argue with the man holding the weapon.

Rebecca stood up and looked at the little girl.

"You'd better get home." She then moved towards the car.

"Her too." Rebecca looked back at the little girl and extended her arm towards to her.

"Come on," she said. The little girl sat on the ground, shaking silently with her knees pulled

up to her chest. She looked down at the ground, still terrified. Rebecca went back over to her and

pulled her. "We have to go. Come on." The little girl looked up at Rebecca slowly but didn't say

anything.

"Hurry up!" the tattooed man ordered. Rebecca nodded fearfully and limped over to the car,

the little girl following behind her like a robot. None of them spoke as much as a syllable as their

driver took them from the scene and eventually out of the city.

"What are your names?" he asked them, looking back at his passengers in the mirror. He had

waited until the city was behind them before he said anything. The little girl didn't answer; she just

stared down at her feet. Rebecca did her best to look strong and didn't say a word. He tried again.

"My name is Julian. You don't need to be afraid of me. I rescued you, didn't I?" That was true but

then he'd also kidnapped them. What's more, he'd made it clear he had no problems with murdering

someone in broad day light.

"Where are you taking us?" Rebecca tried to show courage but her voice was frail.

"I'm taking you to a safe place. When we're there, everything will become clear." He said it

in a matter-of-fact voice that was neither threatening nor promising. But that still didn't put Rebecca

at ease. She went quiet again and waited, looking out the window from the back seat as they passed

by a field of cattle and then turned off the highway to another road. A small red package dropped

into Rebecca's lap. She hadn't even noticed the driver throw it back at her.

“There's a bandage in there,” the driver told her without taking his eyes off the road. “For

your leg,” Rebecca didn't say anything but unzipped the package, found the bandage and wrapped it

quickly and firmly around her wound. Enough to stop the bleeding, she hoped.

The car turned off the road onto one that led them up a steep, grassy hill. They passed a

rising field of grape vines before coming upon a grand and beautiful mansion faced by more

windows than Rebecca could count. It rose three stories with a roof window at its peak. Green vines

climbed its golden walls. The garden flowers grew delicately with rainbows of colour; dotted

around them were Romanesque statues of beautiful maidens and handsome young heroes. The

house and the grounds were breathtaking and for a moment Rebecca forgot her situation entirely.

The car toured past grassy knolls and flower beds before coming around a mighty oak tree to the

front door. Julian stopped and a young man came to his door.

"Welcome back, Sir Julian," the spirited youth said. Julian greeted him and then stepped

aside so that the young man could take the car. Rebecca got out and helped the little girl out the

door and to her side.

"This is the home of our order," Sir Julian explained proudly. "A stronghold. Here you will

be safe, both of you." Rebecca had regained her sense and with it, her fear. She kept the little girl

close to her side protectively. Of all the strangers around her, the little girl was the only one who

wasn't involved in trying to kill her or kidnap her. That made the little girl the closest thing she had

to an ally. They followed Sir Julian into the mansion and through an entrance hall carved in marble,

and then through a corridor under the stairs. This short corridor went by the biggest dining room

Rebecca had ever seen, with three long tables arranged in a U shape; at the back of the room was a

smaller table with a beautiful red and gold table cloth laid over it. They then went around a corner;

through a glass window they could see a small garden and fountain inside the house. Julian led them

through a door at the end of the corridor into a long white hall with walls lined by classical portraits.

As they got to the other end, the portraits got fewer and then framed black and white photographs

took their place. At the very end were a couple of coloured photos.

Julian stopped by a door at the end of the portrait room and asked them to wait there. Then

he went through the door and left them.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca knelt down and tried to comfort the little girl. She didn't get a

response from her. There wasn't even a change of expression, or an expression at all, for that matter.

The little girl was quiet, emotionless, and robotic. "You must be pretty traumatised by all this."

Rebecca sighed and stood up. She didn't know the first thing about children and somehow she'd

come to be trapped with one – a very broken child at this point. Worst of all, they depended solely

on one another and were, surrounded by people with unknown intentions. She wondered why the

girl had been out alone when this began. She wanted to know where the girl's parents were. When

Rebecca had set out for a job interview that day she had no idea she’d nearly get killed saving a

little girl from a crazy driver and then kidnapped by the very person who appeared out of nowhere

to save them. Had anyone told her that all this would happen and that she’d end up in a lavishly

decorated mansion instead of being raped and murdered and left in a ditch off some back road,

she’d have thought that person was crazy. Just as crazy as the situation she found herself in as Sir

Julian opened the door again.

“Please come in. Lord Sebastian would like to talk to you.” Rebecca took the little girl’s

hand and walked into the room.

They came to a glass sitting room at the back of the mansion where a woman was pouring

tea for an older gentleman sitting alone at a table. There were two chairs opposite him.

"Come, sit with me." The gentleman said. "Thank you, Sir Julian, you may leave." Sir Julian

left the room. Walking with a slight limp but trying to look as dignified as she could, Rebecca led

the little girl over to the table and sat down. A maid poured them both tea and then stood waiting

behind the gentleman's chair. "I am Sebastian Halford. My family has owned this castle and the

grounds for generations. Please, have your tea and tell me your names." Rebecca looked down at

her tea and then back at Lord Sebastian.

"My name is Rebecca Williams."

"And your daughter's name?"

"What? No. She's not my daughter. I don't even know her name." Rebecca tried to talk

casually with Lord Sebastian but she was feeling too cautious and too frightened to really be casual.

She didn't touch the tea.

“I see. Sir Julian has filled me in on the details from before and after he arrived at your

rescue. I think it would be best if you inform me of what happened before his arrival – from your

perspective."

Lord Sebastian was just coming to the evening years of his life. He still had a full head of

light brown hair, combed neatly on each side. He sipped his tea under a thick moustache. He sat

comfortable in fine tailored clothes and drank tea from a china cup that was so perfectly crafted that

its clink when he sat it on the saucer was like a little music note. All the while, he listened as

Rebecca explained how she'd come to be protecting the little girl when Sir Julian arrived. When

Lord Sebastian spoke again, he did so formally with a polite, friendly tone but little real emotion.

He kept himself reserved, and used a soft voice. Rebecca noticed the slightest hint of an accent

when he began.

"This changes things slightly. You're no doubt wondering why I've brought you here, Miss

Williams, and you deserve an explanation. That man who Sir Julian killed was a member of a

diabolical and bloodthirsty cult. Servitude is in his nature and right now he serves a powerful entity

that is out for blood. From what I've heard it seems they're after this little girl's blood."

"Why?"

"That, Miss Williams, is a very long story. You see this did not begin this morning or even

while any of us here in the room were alive. This begins roughly one thousand years ago in

Scotland. There was a Sorceress, a great and terrible witch, who held the country in a tyrannical

rule. Her word, no, her very whim, was law and she saw it enforced by an army of powerful Thralls.

Her reign lasted an unnaturally long time, her life sustained for generations by her own magic. No

one could stop her and it was no secret she wanted her empire to spread. She pushed against the

borders of Scotland. Not even the sea could contain her power and her lust for more.”

“Wait, did you say a witch?” Lord Sebastian had his eyes close and spoke like he was

reading from a book. In one of the adjacent rooms a grandfather clock booming the hour.

"Please don't interrupt, Ms Williams. Now, fortunately, this witch was not the only powerful

one. There was not a brave knight or standing army that could defeat her and, believe me, they tried.

However, she was opposed by two sorcerers – brothers, in fact – from a foreign land. They'd heard

of this tyrant and knew she must be stopped before she became a blight on the entire world. So one

day they marched against her at the front of a small, desperate army. Together, with their magic,

they decimated her army and stormed her castle, laying waste to everything the evil Sorceress had

built up. They wasted no time in going straight to the throne room of her castle and challenged her

to battle. But the Sorceress, alone, had them both outmatched. The two sorcerers could hardly hold

their ground against the Sorceress' magic, let alone destroy her. The tide only turned when one of

the brothers decided to sacrifice his life for their cause. He sacrificed himself and using magic,

transformed his whole body into raw, potent energy. This gave his brother the power and the

opportunity for one final, powerful, magical assault that could finally bring an end to the Sorceress'

reign.

"Now you might think that was the end but it wasn't. The rule of Scotland was placed in the

hands of a noble Scottish family. The sorcerer who saved them founded an order of knights, with

himself at the head of it. This Order of The Witch-Hunter has stood vigilant, should the Sorceress

ever return."

"So you brought us here because of some delusional fantasy about wicked witches?"

Rebecca was almost shouting. It wasn't until after she'd spoken that she remembered she was a

captive. She shut her mouth tight before she insulted the crazy man any more. Lord Sebastian went

on as if he'd never stopped.

"The Sorceress had an army of Thralls. With her magic, she'd made them inhumanly

powerful and obedient to the death. Then, in case she should ever be defeated, she had a child with

one of them and taught her Thralls a way to use the blood of her family, her child, to bring her back

from the dead so that she might again take her place as the terrible ruler of the world. The Order

found out about this some time later and managed to stop the ritual just in time and separate the

Thralls from the Sorceress' descendants. We have battled over them ever since and, because of that,

we separated them from ourselves so that we would not lead the Thralls to those who carry the

Sorceress’ blood. Can you see where I'm going with this, Miss Williams?” Rebecca glanced towards

the door.

“No, I have no idea.” She kept him talking. In her mind she tried to retrace the way through

the house to the door. Her heart was beating fast, on the edge of a fresh adrenaline dump.

“If this child was attacked by the Thralls then they believe her to be the latest generation of

the Sorceress' family. That is why we must keep her here and find any family she might have. Sir

Julian thought you were her mother; that's why he brought you here as well."

Lord Sebastian opened his eyes again and sipped at his drink. He watched Rebecca, making

it clear to her that it was her turn to talk.

"You don't expect me to believe any of that, do you? I stopped believing in magic when I

was eleven years old. I think we should just go now.”

"You are free to leave, Miss Williams, though, as a witness, the Thralls may still have an

interest in you if only to make sure you are silent or to find us through you. However, you're also

free to stay; the choice is yours. The child will remain, though, and we will track down her family to

bring them here until we ascertain if they are indeed from the Sorceress' blood line and then find a

way to keep them safe."

"I'm not leaving her with you people!" Rebecca stood up. Her chair fell with a clatter behind

her. Her leg nearly buckled under the sudden strain. Lord Sebastian didn't even flinch.

"Then you will be staying. Do not take it the wrong way, Miss Williams, but you have a

losing hand. We're far from the world you know, and everyone here works for me; most of them are

my knights. That means they are strong and ready for combat against anyone." Rebecca opened her

mouth to reply but no words came. She was defeated and now she was trapped. She looked down at

the little girl to see how she was taking it. The little girl was sitting quietly in her chair; she had no

words, no emotion on her face, nothing at all. Rebecca crossed her arms and looked back at Lord

Sebastian expectantly. He smiled with satisfaction but without looking smug; his was a graceful,

gentlemanly nature, even in victory.

"Would you please show these two to their rooms, my dear? “

“Yes, Lord Sebastian," the maid replied and walked around to the side of the table. "Please

follow me." Rebecca took the girl by the hand and followed her back through to the entrance hall.

They were led up the stairs to the second floor. A long, wide corridor stretched the length of

the house with a row of doors along both walls. Each room had a name, written on its wooden door

in beautiful, flowing, golden writing. One such door had the word ‘Beira’ written on it. They

stopped outside this room and the maid turned to Rebecca and said:

“This will be your room for the duration of your stay. Please try not to lose your key.”

“What about her?” Rebecca asked, looking down at the little girl.

“She is to use the Oisin room next to yours.” The maid took the little girl by the hand,

instructed her to follow and guided her to the next door along the hallway. Rebecca watched her

being led into the room and then went quietly into her own. The room was as elegant as the rest of

Lord Sebastian’s castle. The carpet was a rich, dark scarlet; white silk sheets were spread over the

varnished, wooden double bed. No expense had been spared in decorating the room with beautiful,

classical landscape paintings and a magnificently designed, curving dresser with six drawers and a

large round mirror in a golden frame on the top of it. Next to the dresser, on the left side of the

room, was a door leading to a full bathroom with marble surfaces; the right wall had a sliding door

to a wardrobe built into the wall. Rebecca had never seen a room like it, except in hotel brochures

for places she could never afford to stay at. Everything around here was the finest money could buy

and there were some items she didn’t imagine you even could buy any more. When she sat down on

the bed she felt herself sink a little as the mattress and the sheets moulded to fit her body with the

utmost comfort.

Rebecca began to examine the cut on her leg. The bleeding had stopped, after staining her

stockings, and had begun to scab over. Her hands were also looking fine but she still felt a few

bruises here and there. Rebecca was fortunate in that she had a faster metabolism than most and her

body put itself back together quickly because of it. The downside was that it made her hungrier and

more often – like at that very moment, as she examined herself in the Beira room on the second

floor of Lord Sebastian’s castle. There were troublesome aches in her body and the only formal

clothes she had were scuffed and torn and all-together ruined by the day’s events; being hungry just

made that seem even worse. A clock on the wall confirmed her suspicions that it was getting close

to dinner time and she wondered what protocol for eating was. Before meeting Lord Sebastian

they’d walked by the biggest dining room she’d ever seen with room enough for two hundred

people to feast. She wondered if she’d eat there with the other people she’d seen briefly as she was

led around the castle.

Rebecca’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Rebecca answered it and was

greeted by a maid.

“Lord Sebastian thought you may be in need of a change of clothes. He also requests that

when you’re ready, you and the young lady should join him downstairs again for dinner.” The maid

handed her a small stack of clothing. She then left Rebecca to change. Right then Rebecca noticed

that the small girl had been standing behind the maid the whole time. The two stared at each other

with uncertainty for a moment before Rebecca broke the silence.

“Would you like to come in?” Without responding, the little girl walked into the room and

sat down on a chair by the dresser. She didn’t say anything and just stared at her feet. Rebecca

watched expectantly for a while and, when the girl didn’t say anything, she took her new clothes

over to the bed and examined them. The top was a black polo shirt a size too big for her and with it

were loose fitting navy jeans; a belt was already threaded through the waist with an empty holster

hanging on the hip. These pants, like the shirt, looked as if they were too big for her as well. Both

articles were men's cuts. She sighed and shrugged, figuring it was better than what she had on now.

She looked over her shoulder at the little girl – nothing had changed – and then she went to the

bathroom to change her clothes. The belt held her jeans up fine but the pants were too long and she

had to roll them up at the ankles. Rebecca came out of the bathroom and looked over at the girl with

as friendly a smile as he could manage.

“What do you think?” The little girl looked up from her feet at Rebecca but when she didn’t

say anything, Rebecca’s smile faded. “They’re pretty big. I wonder what this writing is on the shirt.

It's not English.”

“You're not going to hurt me, are you?”

Rebecca looked at her in wide eyed surprise.“No. Of course I'm not. Why would I?”

“My name is Ashley.”

“Ashley?” She repeated and the little girl nodded. Rebecca walked over to the little black-

haired girl and knelt down. “Hi Ashley, my name is Rebecca.” Ashley just nodded. “I was starting

to wonder if you could talk. Why have you been so quiet?” There was no response from Ashley this

time. She wasn’t looking at Rebecca any more either, but at her hands resting in her lap. “Alright

Ashley, you just say something when you want to. Are you hungry?” Ashley nodded. “So am I.

Starving, in fact. Let’s go downstairs and meet Lord Sebastian for something to eat.” Ashley nodded

again and slid off the chair and onto her feet.

Lord Sebastian was waiting for them, where they had first met him. The tablecloth had been

changed and a second maid was standing by his chair. When Rebecca and Ashley came into the

room he stood up and, without looking, gestured to his maids. Both of them went around the table

and pulled out the chairs for Rebecca and Ashley. The girls took their seats and the maids

immediately began to serve dinner. Lord Sebastian sat and, when his glass had been filled with red

wine, he took a sip and then seemed to ponder over the taste of it. Ashley prodded the food on her

plate a little. Rebecca watched Sebastian’s behaviour with the same curiosity she felt when she

watched exotic animals at the zoo – was this how the wealthy lived, spending too much time

thinking about wine? Unfortunately, there was no information on display about Lord Sebastian, and

the way he treated her with stand-offish indifference didn’t help. Lord Sebastian wasn't a snake that

came close to the glass to inspect the onlookers. Lord Sebastian was more like a lion that just didn't

care that people were looking and children were making faces. Lord Sebastian hadn’t said a word to

either of his guests since they came downstairs and now he began to eat his food quietly and in

small bites. Rebecca gave up waiting for him to talk and began to eat. She was so surprised when

she tasted it that she could not stop herself from comment.

“Wow, this is really good.”

“Yes. I made sure that the head chef personally cooked his speciality for this meal. I see

even the young lady is enjoying herself. I am pleased she is more active than she was when you first

arrived. How do you like my castle?”

“The rooms are very nice,” Rebecca said politely. Everything had been exceptional since her

arrival as Lord Sebastian’s guest, but she still felt like a glorified prisoner of a madman and his

personal army.

“Has she spoken yet?” Lord Sebastian asked. He had yet to look up from his meal and when

it was Rebecca’s turn to talk he would eat a little more and sip his wine. Rebecca looked down at

Ashley. She wasn’t smiling and she didn’t move any more than she had to in order to eat. The little

girl had remained quiet since they left Rebecca’s bedroom and showed no desire to say anything.

“No. She hasn’t said a word since I met her.” Rebecca looked back up at Sebastian.

“No matter.” he said. “Should her condition persist I will bring a psychologist to my castle

to help her. That is unlikely to be necessary, however. When the tests begin tomorrow she will not

need to speak, only to listen and follow along with what she is told.”

“Tests? What tests?” Rebecca placed one hand on Ashley and tensed her muscles. She

wondered if her legs were up to running yet.

“We must discover if she is indeed the Sorceress’ heir that the Thralls believe she is.

Therefore, we must test her.”

“Like a blood test?”

“No. We have no record or sample of the Sorceress’ blood to compare her with.”

“Then how?”

“Ms Williams, you are unlikely to know this but it is, in fact, true that the majority of people

on earth are capable of learning magic.” Lord Sebastian put down his knife and fork and for the first

time looked up at his guests. Rebecca went to say something but he began talking again before she

could. “Let me finish. Children in particular are adept at picking up the arts of magic. That is why,

in ages past, a sorcerer or Sorceress would take an apprentice at a young age. You see, as we grow

older, we begin to develop certain mental blocks either in what we call rational thinking or in our

confidence. This is especially true in today's so-called age of information and science.” His tone

was almost mocking at the mention of science. “Once a person does begin to master the arts, a

change takes place in them. Now, that change might be a genetic change or perhaps it is deeper than

that, we don't really know. But what we do know is that the change gets passed on through the

generations almost indefinitely. This trait makes that person even more able to perform magic –

even beyond child hood. You’d be surprised how many people in today’s world have this potential

sitting untapped in them. The majority of them will go unnoticed.”

“So…” Rebecca smiled at her host. As dangerous as Lord Sebastian was with his own

personal army, Rebecca couldn’t help but be amused by this wealthy, grown man’s childish and

innocent devotion to his fantasies. Lord Sebastian and his knights hadn’t been nice enough for her

to be sympathetic towards the clearly delusional man. Instead, he sounded, to her, just like a child.

His age only made his rambling make him look idiotic. A powerful, dangerous idiot but still an

idiot. That was reason enough to politely indulge him for now. At least until she could escape.

“You’re telling me that the only way to find out if she’s what these Thralls want is to test if she can

do magic. You expect me to believe any of this?”

“Yes. I expect you to believe it because it’s true. All magic requires is belief, determination,

intent and, most of all, willpower.”

“So if I wanted to make this salt shaker float, all I’d need to do is believe hard enough and

say ‘abra kadabra!’ and it would happen?” Rebecca asked as she picked up the salt shaker. Lord

Sebastian smiled, lifted a hand from his lap and splayed his fingers out towards Rebecca. She was

expecting him to say something but he didn’t. Just then she felt the salt shaker begin to move in her

hand. Rebecca jumped and in her fright, let it go, whipping her hand away. The salt shaker didn’t

fall but instead drifted over the table towards Lord Sebastian and he caught it in his hand.

“Abra kadabra, Ms Williams,” he said with a victorious smile and salted his meal. Rebecca’s

mouth fell open and she stared, speechless.

About The Author

Carl Purcell was born in and still lives in Australia. He started writing at an early age and

has aspired his whole life to be either an author or Jackie Chan. Because the job of Jackie Chan is

already taken, Carl eventually decided to become an author.

Carl's first publication was as the co-writer of the comic series Winter City, which began in

early 2012 and has been met with critical acclaim. Sorceress blood is his second release and is the

result of years of practice, hard work and learning everything the hard way.

Carl is an active member of the website deviantArt. He also keeps a blog on the topic of

writing and being a writer. Carl loves to hear from people who have been reading his work. You can

contact Carl or find out more about him at these places:

http://neomerlin.deviantart.com/

http://www.winter-city.com

http://www.carlpurcell.blogspot.com.au/

Keep Reading

You can continue reading Sorceress' Blood by purchasing the complete book from leading

ebook retailers, including those below. Thank you and enjoy!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ADSAWBQ

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/293746