Holly stared into the flames crackling in the fireplace, her thoughts rattling around her head like a loose coin in a tumble dryer.
The new normal. How life could return to simple mediocrity after battling the corrupted spirit of her ancestor was beyond her.
She hadn’t even looked at any of the assets Samantha had left her, let alone opened the thick orange envelope with all the paperwork stuffed inside. It sat on the coffee table, its neon hue begging her to pick it up. The paper bulged in the middle, a little hole developing where the keys to the fancy house on the west side of Dunloe were pressing against the limits of the envelope.
Glancing at the Dunne grimoire that sat tucked underneath the paperwork, she frowned. Why had Samantha trusted her with it? Honestly, it felt like a consolation prize. A ‘sorry for trying to kill you and destroying your family, but here’s our most sacred book’ kind of prize. It didn’t feel right to even open it. It was meant to be passed through the Dunne family, but now that bloodline was gone. A whole lineage of witches just…gone.
The same could be said for her own family. She was the last Burke, and even the thought of it weighed heavily on her heart. She was in love with a vampire—a man who could never give her children. Maybe Aunt Hannah was right.
A key rattled in the front door, then opened with a burst of cold air. Jin strode in, his expression full of exasperation.
“Do I really have to go back to work tomorrow?” he asked, sitting beside her with a huff. “I feel like a walking conspiracy theory.”
“Hello to you, too,” she drawled.
“Hello.” He sighed and kissed her cheek. “I compelled the mayor today.”
“Seriously?” Holly raised her eyebrows. She’d never met the mayor, not even at the funeral. Even though she’d inherited all of Samantha’s wealth, she was still a nobody in the eyes of the community. Samantha had been the philanthropist, despite all her ulterior motives.
“He was trying to pressure the department into opening an investigation into Samantha’s death. I couldn’t let it happen, of course.”
“Good,” she replied. “Things are complicated enough.”
Jin sighed and sank back onto the couch.
“There’s more? Please don’t tell me there’s another magical malady to battle. I’m tired.”
“It depends on your definition of ‘malady.’”
She swatted his arm. “Spit it out.”
“Apparently, the Dunloe old folk’s brigade is talking smack about me,” he drawled.
“Smack?” Holly asked with a smirk. “No one says ‘smack’ anymore.”
He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. I’m two hundred years old.”
“What are they saying?”
“That I’m shirking my responsibilities fighting crime. Allegedly, I’m spending too much time chasing around that Burke girl.”
Holly snorted, then laughed. “Well, I don’t want to sound full of myself, but it’s kind of true.”
“I’d prefer if we shared the chasing, including the reputation.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I chased just as much as you did.” And felt a little foolish for it from time to time.
Jin nodded towards the envelope. “You haven’t opened it yet?”
Holly shook her head. “It feels too soon.”
“And the grimoire?”
“It wasn’t meant for me.”
“But she gave it to you, regardless.”
“Yeah, because there was no one else left to give it to. It wasn’t voluntary.”
“Of course it was.” Jin sat up and slid his arm around her waist. “And just because you’re not a Dunne, doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it. Samantha knew what she was doing.”
“I’m…” Her lips thinned. There was worthiness, then there were all the strings of the past. “It’s not just about that. I’m afraid of what I might find in there. The Trine… Well, they weren’t exactly the most righteous of witches, were they?”
Jin was silent for a moment, but his fingers tightened around her waist. “I’m not the best person to offer advice. You know I have nothing good to say about the Trine.”
Holly sighed. Her eyes felt scratchy and tired, and her shoulders heavy with the unexpected burden of carrying the Legacy for two bloodlines—one literal and one metaphorical.
“I’m imagining black magic,” she said, trying not to look at the leather-bound book hiding underneath the envelope. “But I wouldn’t even know what black magic looks like. I barely understand the sigils and symbols in my own grimoire.”
“Fiona’s going to help, right?”
She nodded. “I want to understand it. I want to be worthy.”
Holly wanted to leave something behind in her own family grimoire, like her ancestors had. She was part of something now, but her limited knowledge kept her on the fringes of this new magical world she found herself in. Even after all the things they’d done to save Dunloe, Holly still felt like a total newbie.
“You already are, Holly,” Jin murmured. “You helped free this town from its continuous loop of despair. You freed your bloodline from death. You helped all those spirits find peace. You…” She knew he was thinking about Hazel when he trailed off.
She knew he was thinking about Hazel when he trailed off, which was understandable. They’d been through so much together, and had been in a complicated relationship—one Holly shouldn’t be jealous of. It didn’t stop the feeling from surfacing, though.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she whispered, staring at him. She raised her hand and traced the hard line of his jaw, then pressed her palm over his cool cheek. “Are you all right?”
Jin’s gaze lowered, his brown eyes falling towards her lips. “I find this modern world tedious. There’s so many rules…so many eyes watching.”
“There aren’t any eyes here.”
“Thank goodness for that.” He leaned in, his fingers curling through her wavy auburn hair.
“Jin?”
He paused.
“I need to ask…” she hesitated, a lump forming in her throat.
“About?”
“T-the mine.” She swallowed hard. “She should be with her mother.”
Jin closed his eyes for a moment, but he didn’t pull away. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.”
Then she kissed him, sinking into the comfort of his arms.
* * *
The following morning, Holly stood in the garden, staring at the diggings.
Bundled up in a woolly jumper, coat, and boots, she clutched a map and a black Sharpie.
What did they know about the anomaly, anyway? Only that it was a pocket of ancient magic that’d been here for longer than Europeans had lived in this place, and maybe even longer than the Indigenous peoples of Australia before them.
Was it left behind by someone? Was it created? How long had it been there? How long would it take to go away? And the most frightening question of all… Would it ever go away?
Jin appeared beside her, appearing out of thin air. She wasn’t surprised by his vampire-ish movements anymore—Samantha’s lessons in spotting magical undead creatures had totally sunk in.
“I can sense it,” he said. “You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to.”
“I have to,” she told him. “I need to understand what the anomaly is, and where it extends to.” This was her life’s purpose now, watching over the diggings so the past wouldn’t repeat itself. She supposed this was her growing up.
“Well, it doesn’t seem to have passed the limits of the creek,” Jin said.
“I don’t know. The ground still feels a bit charged here.”
“Residue?”
She nodded. “We used a lot of magic.” And channelled the anomaly. “I think it’s interfering with me sensing the borders on this side.”
Fiona had told her that the earth absorbed large amounts of arcane energy after a spell like they’d performed the other night. The signature would fade in time, but until then, any witch who crossed the cottage garden would sense the static charge. It was just how things worked.
Holly assumed she’d feel the same sensation in the diggings now that the vortex was gone, and she was relying on that to help her map out the edges of the anomaly. All that was left was the legwork.
“If it’s any help, I can’t feel anything,” Jin told her.
She unfolded the map, which was a hastily printed out screenshot from the internet, and found Moonlight Creek. Marking it, she walked towards the bridge.
The static dipped a little, then faded entirely as she set foot onto the rickety wooden structure. The brownish water gurgled as it wound its way downstream, the only sound that broke the silence of the bush before them.
“Like I said,” Jin murmured, taking her hand, “we can do this another day.”
Holly stared at the track, her hands trembling. She remembered it as an oppressive place, empty yet crowded at the same time. The air had been heavy with an unseen weight, and her skin had prickled with the sensation of being watched by an invisible force. Not to mention she’d been partially possessed, attacked, and forced to take part in a blood sacrifice within the confines of the historic minefields…and that was only scratching the surface.
It stood to reason that some of her hesitation would be because of psychological trauma, but also, it was the unknown…and the fear of the legacy her family had in this place.
Would she be tempted by the power resting underneath her feet, just like Hazel had? She’d channelled it twice now and knew the possibilities that kind of magic held. Despite her desire to do good, Holly knew that with power like that, corruption inevitably followed.
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Until we can understand the bloody thing and know its limits, it’s just sitting there, ripe for the taking. Anyone can just come along and tap into it.”
“Okay.” Jin plucked the map out of her fingers. “We can head across the creek and take the trail north and head in a clockwise direction, or we could go south towards the highway. The diggings continue across the road another twenty-five kilometres.”
She groaned. “I didn’t realise they were so big. The map makes the area look tiny.”
“From what I remember, the bush out that way is pretty dense, with lots of ridges and gullies. Great for gold, less so for hiking.” He chuckled. “The human development may have contained it, or it may never have gone that far anyway, but I wouldn’t worry. If you get tired, I can always carry you.”
Holly rolled her eyes and crossed the bridge. The moment she stepped into the diggings, she felt the static charge rise through the clay and quartz to meet her.
“There it is,” she said as Jin joined her at the fork in the trail. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to figure out how to sense the anomaly, but it feels familiar. Like the feeling in the garden.”
“You channelled it there,” he reminded her. “Maybe it remembers you.”
“Bloody hell, don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“It implies this thing has intelligence, and that’s just way too much.” She shivered and blew a raspberry. “It’s one crazy thing too far. No, thank you!”
The vampire chuckled and looked up and down the track. “Which way?”
“North.”
They followed the trail as it snaked along the edge of Moonlight Creek, enjoying each other’s company. It was so strange to feel so content after so much turmoil, and Holly almost felt guilty. Her thoughts turned to Hannah, Samantha, and Sarah, then to all the other souls taken.
A new cycle was beginning, but it felt rather lonely with only two witches and two vampires to witness it.
“When I returned, the first thing I noticed was the silence,” Jin said as they walked. “It was different from the silence in the mine.”
It was the first time he’d mentioned his imprisonment in the Union Reef Mine in an ambivalent way. He’d always held such a heated anger towards it, which she definitely understood, though now it almost sounded like he was at peace with it.
“Different, how?” she asked, though he didn’t seem to register her question.
“Listen,” he murmured. “What can you hear?”
At first, Holly could only hear the telltale signs of how unfit she was—her ragged breaths and blood whooshing in her ears—but as she calmed, other sounds reached her ears.
Autumn had definitely given way to winter, but even the cold didn’t stop every animal from venturing out. A pair of rosellas soared overhead, their red and blue bodies backdropped against the slate-grey clouds hanging in the sky. A crow cawed in the distance, and the undergrowth rustled as an unknown creature fossicked for food in the scrub.
Most other animal life seemed to have already begun hibernation, though. Wombats huddled deep in their burrows, inquisitive kangaroos and wallabies laid low, and the snakes and little lizards had disappeared until they felt the warmth of the spring sunshine return to the countryside.
“The animals are returning,” Holly whispered, spotting a blue-faced fairy wren flitting about in a scraggly wattle bush.
Jin nodded. “Hopefully they’ll stay.”
She took out the map and marked the edges of Moonlight Creek. “The static is fading here. I think we should move away from the water now.”
They headed off trail and into the scrub. The bracken ferns were thick here, and their boots crunched on leaf and bark litter hidden underneath the rusty-coloured fronds.
The static ebbed, the force of the anomaly reaching out towards her. When she saw the surrounding gums had twisted into odd shapes, she knew they’d strayed away from the border and were heading towards the centre.
“We’ve gone too far now,” she said, looking around. “Damn it. I thought this’d be easier.”
“Then we go back to the creek and retrace our steps.”
A low snorting sound echoed in the shadows, and she turned, her heart leaping into her throat.
Jin whirled around, his eyes widening. “What’s wrong?”
Holly froze, the snorting sound morphing into a deep growl that vibrated through her bones. “Do you hear that?”
Jin frowned and scanned the surrounding bush. “Hear what?”
“You’ve got super hearing and you’re telling me you didn’t hear that?” She jabbed a finger in the direction the growling had come from.
“Holly, I can’t hear anything.”
“It was a growling sound…snorting and growling.”
“No. I heard nothing.” Jin shook his head. “But there are feral pigs around.”
Holly’s expression fell. “Feral pigs? Really? Wait…actually, I’m not surprised.” Like with most livestock, she figured they were introduced by European settlers, then some got free, and here they were. But why didn’t Jin hear it?
“The diggings feel normal now,” the vampire said. “Before, they were wrong. Like this whole area existed in another place…or reality.”
“The vortex must’ve made the wall between life and death thin,” she mused. “Now it’s gone, it’s just like any other bit of bushland.”
“Animals are returning,” he went on. “It stands to reason they’d be just as curious as we are about what’s going on here.”
“Even the wild pigs?”
“Even the pigs.” Jin laughed. “Let’s head back to the creek.”
Glad he was feeling confident about all this, Holly nodded. “Good idea. If there’s a pig out there, I want nothing to do with it.”
“What about bacon?”
“Oh, shush.” She rolled her eyes and threaded her arm through his. “Get moving. I don’t want to be out here all day.”
As they headed back through the scrub, Holly glanced over her shoulder one last time.
Force of habit, she supposed.