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Rayan hated her, and he hated his own weakness that wouldn’t let him leave. Every moment he spent in her presence chipped away at his spirit, leaving him feeling like a mere puppet in her twisted game. He remembered the day he first met the witch, that now felt like a lifetime ago. Regret filled his heart as he realized his grave mistake in aligning himself with her. He should have confided in Sameer instead of running away. Thinking about his best friend brought another wave of regret washing over him.
“So, this is where you lived?” Meena said, going from one room to the other.
His childhood home was the same except for the cobwebs that now hung from the walls and ceilings and the layer of dust that coated every surface. Darkness consumed the space, with only dim rays of sunlight filtering through the partially drawn curtains. His eyes narrowed as his mind processed what he saw. It looked like no one had been in the house for months. But how was that possible? He was sure Sameer would take care of his house, but his friend might have forgotten him sooner than he thought.
The once cozy living room felt cold and unwelcoming, its warmth stripped away by the passage of time. Each item on the shelf looked forlorn, abandoned by its owner, and now coated with dirt. Sadness gripped his heart. And he realized he should never have returned. The place reenacted the ghosts of the past he would rather forget because it reminded him of everything he lost. The faint smell of decay overwhelmed his senses, and he opened all the windows.
Captivated by the lingering memories, he was startled when Meena clapped before him and said, “Hey, where do you think the journal is?” She was trying to get his attention and looked at him impatiently.
“My room, I think,” he said absentmindedly. “Or maybe the attic.”
“Okay, while you daydream, I’ll look for it. We don’t want to stick around. In case your father comes or sends a spy.”
The reminder was unnecessary. For the first time, Rayan didn’t fall for it. He knew no one would come looking for him because no one knew he was there. It had been months since he returned to his house. And now that he was there, he could ascertain it was safe. She might not have kept her promise of teaching him everything about controlling his powers, but he hadn’t been oblivious to her manipulations.
He had been paying attention and learning things he could. Though he still couldn’t teleport on a whim like her, he could feel the magic in the air around him. And he knew there was no magic in his house. His father hadn’t set up any traps for him. His home was just the way he left it. But no, there was something.
Closing his eyes, Rayan tuned out the outside world. The blare of cars honking disappeared. He could no longer hear the insistent mews of his neighbor’s cats. Meena’s careless rummaging through his stuff was muted too. And then he felt it again. It was something different; not a Grim Reaper, a witch, or a demi. No, this magic was something else entirely, darker but less potent.
Someone had been in his house recently, but it wasn’t his father.
“What are you doing?” Meena asked.
Her voice was too close for comfort. Rayan opened his eyes and looked into hers. She stared at him curiously. He felt exposed and said harshly, “Nothing. Did you find it?”
“You did something,” she said as a statement.
He averted his gaze and moved away from her without responding. But she was like a hound after a bone.
“You have learned to control your powers. Haven’t you?” She smiled as if she were happy for him. He doubted that. When he remained quiet, she said, “So, what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” he said at last, still not meeting her eyes.
“Knowing that you have the power to do something that no one else can do?”
“I’m sure many supernatural beings can do what I can,” he said.
“Nah, you’re wrong there. I know I let you believe that we all have the same type of powers, but that’s not true.” She was thoughtful for a second. “Except maybe fairies. They are all the same. But for the rest of us, we all have a unique power that’s different from the rest in one way or another. Tell me, what’s yours?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He shrugged and randomly started opening and closing the drawers. They stood in the foyer, and antique furniture lined both walls. His mother collected these pieces over the years. It was her only passion other than drinking. He sighed. The place brought all kinds of emotions, and he was fighting the urge to run away.
“What?” Meena looked around, on full alert. “What is it?”
She must have read his expressions and thought they were in danger or something, but that wasn’t it. He felt like running away. Exactly how he felt on that fateful day when he received his father’s letter. At the time, he thought the turmoil in his mind was prompting him to leave his ancestral home and seek refuge with a witch, but now he wasn’t so sure.
“I have an uncanny urge to run away,” he said. And closed the drawer he had just opened. The urge went away. He breathed deeply and re-opened the drawer. The feeling returned. He found both his father’s letter and the letter opener were tossed there. Picking up the two items, he tried to feel the magic within them. The letter opener was okay, and he threw it back in. But the letter hummed with an odd energy. He could feel the traces of magic in the item.
“What are you doing, Rayan?” Meena’s voice held concern, which shocked him more than the realization he had just had.
“It’s this letter that caused me to run away,” he said, staring at it as if it was a mystery. “It wasn’t my father’s letter. It was this and whoever put the spell on it.” He looked at her then. His gaze was accusing. “It was you. Wasn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” She placed a hand on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
He pushed her hand away angrily. Pacing in agitation, he gave her another accusing glare. “You cursed the letter and made sure I’d run away and just happen to run into you.” He pointed at her, angrier than he had ever felt. “You have ruined my life. You destroy whatever you touch,” he shouted, “I hate you, Meena. Like I have never hated anyone before.”
“Look, Rayan,” she said softly, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I never cursed any letter or anything. I did orchestrate our first encounter, but that’s the extent of my deceit. And I really wanted to help you.”
“Yeah, right.” A maniacal laughter burst from his lips. “As if you can ever think of anything beyond yourself. Your life revolves around a dot, and you keep circling it without caring about the consequences to others and yourself.” Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her violently. “Wake up before it’s too late.”
He let go of her abruptly and turned his back to her. There was a heavy silence between them that felt almost tangible. Seconds ticked by, and she didn’t say anything. He breathed heavily, struggling with himself. Seconds turned into minutes, and he finally looked at her. But she was gone.
“Meena?” he called out, not believing she would leave without a word or a curse. But she really was gone, leaving him behind, wondering what he was to do next.
