Chapter Nine
Mark normally enjoyed the Winter Solstice, primarily because it was a good party, but also because he occasionally got an extra day off school. This morning was truly the start of the Christmas holidays, and it was easy to relax and ignore the impending trial.
Damian had reluctantly gone home last night. Mark would have voted for him to stay again, but his parents had used emotional blackmail and insisted Damian had to make amends with his aunt. A handy, informal note from Mark's Mum, saying that in her nurse's opinion it wouldn't hurt Damian to have one more day to recover, meant that Damian was back about midday.
"Excellent, you can give me a hand building the fire." Mark nodded towards the waste wood that was collected in the garage for this exact purpose every year.
"There's actually a fire?" Damian asked as he struggled to pull a twisted branch free.
"Yeah, we light it as the sun drops to the horizon. It has some traditional link to it, but mainly it just keeps us warm. The party is too big to hold indoors." Mark explained as he carried some broken planks up to the site for the fire. The ground was flat, and he and his Dad had already cleared the worst of the snow. There was a small pile that Mark had already started.
"So there'll be a lot of people here? Your Nanna told me her coven only has a dozen members."
Mark shrugged, "It may be a witch gathering, but it's definitely family-friendly. They bring their partners, kids, grandkids. Mr Brown, the farmer next-door, his family comes every year, too."
By mid-afternoon, everything was ready and Mark's Dad brought round bacon butties to tide them over. It wasn't long after, that people started to arrive, parking on the long drive and walking up.
There was noise and laughter; children were playing games and getting shouted at when they ran too close to the fire. But as the party spirit grew, Damian seemed to shrink back. At one point, Mark noticed that he had vanished completely, and went to find him.
Damian was holed up in the garage, sitting on the work bench, choosing the cold over the crowd.
"Hey, you OK?" Mark asked, his silhouette appearing in the wide garage door.
"I'm kinda freaking out about tonight." Damian confessed. "A few months ago, I didn't believe in witchcraft and demons. I feel so out of control over my own life."
"I understand-"
"How? How can you possibly understand? You were brought up with all this!"
Mark sighed, "This whole demon thing is new to me, too. Can you at least believe that I'm here for you?"
Damian fell silent. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like a prick."
"You've got a good reason." Mark said, perching next to him.
"Lately, you're the one that's always there; you're the one that makes me feel normal." Damian said quietly.
Mark turned to see Damian looking his way. Their faces were mere inches apart in the dark garage, Damian's expression lost to the shadows. Mark wished that Damian was feeling even half the physical attraction that he was. He wished that-
Damian leant in and kissed him.
Mark's heart pounded, his hand raised to curl around his collar, pulling him further into the kiss.
"There you guys are!"
Mark pulled away, he'd never been less happy to hear Harry's voice.
"Harry, you absolute bugger!" Sarah hissed at her boyfriend, before turning to the two guys in the garage. "Sorry, we were looking for you everywhere. Nanna said you had something to tell us?"
Mark reluctantly let go of Damian. "It's your call if we tell them."
Damian licked his lips, before bringing his thoughts into line. "You trust them, and Nanna approves of them knowing..."
Damian took a deep breath, and proceeded to tell Harry and Sarah everything.
*****
It was nearing midnight, and the party had wound down, only the witches and Mark's family remained. Harry and Sarah also stayed, refusing to leave their friends in peril.
"You can't involve them, they're schoolkids." Mark's Dad argued with Nanna, as preparations were being made.
"This is to save Damian's life, his soul and his bleedin' sanity." Nanna snapped, "Mark chose to take up witchcraft, you should be proud that he's trying to help his friends."
"But Harry and Sarah-"
"Are old enough to make their own choice."
Mark's Mum stepped up and put her hand on her husband's arm. "Darling, you haven't won an argument in your life, don't try now."
Mark cringed at his family giving a public performance, and hurried his friends towards the fire. The witches were already taking their places, and Mark could feel the build of power, he didn't think it would be this strong. It felt like they could do anything, and they hadn't even started yet.
He left Harry and Sarah a few metres away, so they wouldn't interfere with the connection; then he joined the other witches. The other witches – those words, and the fact the magic that stirred welcomed him like a brother in the fold, made him shiver with excitement. Why had he ever doubted that this was the right path for him?
Thirteen of them circled the fire, which had gotten lower, darker and hotter as it burnt through the evening. Mark could see Damian across the circle, standing in front of Nanna, a look of determination in his handsome face. Mark offered him a silent smile, before his attention was suddenly stolen.
The spell had begun. Nanna laid a base spell for protection, before moving to invoke the demon. Across the circle, Mark felt connected to her; her intentions were his intentions. The same feeling pulsed from the other witches around the fire, until it all became rather heady.
The witches were chanting in unison, and on some level Mark felt a panic that he didn't know the words, but as he took a calming breath he realised that he was intoning with the rest. Mark forced himself to relax, and allowed the power of the spell to wash through him.
"Through the mists of time and space;
"Through locks and walls, to this set place.
"We call upon the ancient power;
"Greeted at the midnight hour.
"Link our hopes and hearts as one;
"Til our intentions be done."
Across the way, Nanna was the only one who spoke separately. She looked to the fire, her arms wide. In one hand, she held a bloody knife – Mark's gaze flicked to Damon, and he could see a makeshift bandage on his hand.
"By blood this was done;
"By blood this is undone.
"I call upon the ancient powers;
"To banish evil and release what is ours."
As the old woman repeated the words, the flames from the bonfire froze then became inverted. The fire shuddered and strained, like a living thing. What Mark assumed was a log, broke free and thudded upright into the ground, still burning; but it flexed and drove its claws into the mud. A huge claw and limb, blackened, but burning; Mark's gaze traced it back to its origin, and saw something half-human and half-beast in the fire. It faded between real and solid; and mere sparks in the fire.
Mark pushed down the fear that threatened to rise, and focussed on his chant.
"I order you to relinquish your hold on this boy." Nanna shouted at the demon form.
"You have no power over me, witch. A deal was struck." The voice was guttural and much more terrifying than it had been in the brief scrying vision.
"Not with him, his father. No man can sell his son."
The demon growled, lowering its blazing torso towards Nanna and Damian, who staggered back from the heat. "The father tried to rescind, he had to be removed."
"Then release the boy, you've had your fill of death."
"Deaths do not interest me, I want life." The demon moved, every joint giving a sickening crack, as it turned to face Damian. "His life."
Damian quailed as the thing turned its full attention on him, and he looked to Nanna for help.
"Stay strong." Nanna warned him, before turning to the demon. "You have no claim here."
"You have no power over me, witch." The demon repeated, with a choking, rasping sound of insulting laughter.
"I am the Grand High Witch, I have every power." Nanna yelled.
In the circle, Mark felt another wave of power surge through the connection, it was suffocating and relentless. He glanced at his Nanna, hardly believing that this was all her. The other witches in the circle wavered, then focussed anew at their own chants, sweating at the effort.
Sensing an opponent that it could not overcome, the demon turned to a weaker link. It leered at Damian with black, consuming eyes. "He is already mine. I can make him great. Or I can destroy... again... I have seen his dreams and desires..."
Within the fire, the demon turned again, rearing up and snapping its joints until it faced someone else. Its soulless eyes settled on Mark, the blackness ensnaring him, and numbing him from the connection with the other witches. For a moment Mark felt truly alone against this beast.
"No!" The yell came, and suddenly two gloved hands held onto Mark's.
He took a deep breath and felt the comforting warmth of Harry and Sarah pressed defensively against him. He was no longer alone, and in that moment the demon's hold over him waned.
The demon must have felt it too, and pulled itself up to its full, terrifying height. The flames crackled and roared to life once more. "Three victims instead of one..."
"Enough!" Damian screamed, bringing the focus back onto himself. "You will not hurt anyone. The only victim will be me."
"Damian, stop!" Nanna cried, trying to pull him back.
But it was too late, as Damian thrust his bloody hand in offering to the demon, it crashed down, sending sparks and ash billowing out.
There was a scream, and Damian ran away from the fire, seeking the dark loneliness beyond.
Nanna came stomping over to Mark and his friends, looking incredibly pissed off. "Why he had to act the bloody hero, I don't know, but the whole thing's ruined. You three find him and bring him to my kitchen, while I apologise to everyone."