Chapter 10

Ten

Zipping up the winter jacket I had dug out of the closet, I couldn’t help but smile as I watched kids rush past, ducking and weaving between groups of adults, as we all headed to the village square. Many calling out to one another to show off their costumes, some even acting out their character as they pounced on one another.

Memories of having done the same, what feels like an eternity ago, causing a soft ache in my chest. While I hate how my mother pushes her need for grandkids on me, I’ve always wanted a child or two of my own. Just not with any of the men here as their father. Though, with Will… The thought of a little boy or girl with his silver hair and blue eyes brings happiness to a touchy subject. While the process of getting said child brings a fire to my core and heat to my face. Which is even more telling since the chilled breeze of the evening is blowing past.

And the bonfire isn’t even lit yet for me to blame their redness on the heat.

Overhead Raiden swoops and dives out of the dark on unsuspecting people, grabbing bits and pieces of costumes from kids to get them to chase after him. His version of tag, if you will, for he never keeps the items. He always sets it down where the child will find it and flies off to find another victim.

With the sun having set hours ago, long shadows stretch out from beneath light posts along the streets, as people walked beneath them. From every light post hangs tiny pumpkins, garlands of dried leaves, and wreaths of evergreen trees. Bales of hay and much larger gourds lined the sidewalk, offering places to sit for the elderly while adding to the Halloween atmosphere. Unlike other places, there were no scarecrows to be found, for no one would wish to frighten away a messenger of The Morrigan and risk her incurring her wrath.

In the center of the square stood a raised platform made of stone. Upon it was a large pyre, waiting to be lit by Master Sailas when the time comes. Further away, but still where everyone can see it, was the black box containing the new vessel, sitting on a small table.

Wisps of condensation hang in the air in front of me, the chilled air becoming even colder as Will and I come to a stop several feet away from the main gathering. His strong arms wrapping around me, pulling me against his chest, becoming a personal heater as he lowers his head so he can hear me over the din of the crowd.

“Is this where you want to watch the festival?” I look around, noticing quite a few other places still open, if he decided to move.

Will shrugs, “Seems as good a place as any.”

Nodding, I return my attention to the platform, patiently waiting for the ceremony to start. Every now and then I would look over the crowd, taking note of who was already here. I also realized, with us standing off to the side, next to a stack of hay, there was a chance we would go unnoticed by my mother and Danny.

One can only hope but, then again, I’m never that lucky.

Having gotten bored of terrorizing kids, Raiden took a spot on the arm of a lamp post, gazing over the crowd. Knowing him, he’s moved on to adults, though he’ll have to be sneakier if he wants to take their things.

“What time does the ceremony start?” Will looks up at the clock hanging over the doors of the town hall, “I want to get you home so I can warm you up.”

“Soon,” I’m sure his words alone can keep me warm, let alone the thoughts he inspires, “The council will come up to tell the tale of Jack and then Master Sailas will light the bonfire and call for Jack.”

As if they had heard my reply, a group of hooded figures began to walk up the stone stairs, making their way toward the pyre. The murmur of voices quitting in a ripple effect as others started to take note of their presence. The magic coming off them strong enough to hush even the rowdiest of children, causing them to come to a stop in awe.

Together they lined up near the edge of the platform, their hoods casting their faces in shadows, as they overlooked the crowd. Waiting for everyone to be completely silent, for all eyes to be focused on them. Only then did they begin to speak in unison–an effect I always found eerie and unnerving–the Tale of Stingy Jack and the birth of Halloween in our town.

“Tonight we come together, on the eve of Halloween, to call forth the essence of Stingy Jack, the man who has been condemned to roam our world for all eternity due to his disrespect to the guidance of the stars and the path placed before us by the fates themselves. A reminder for all of us here to honor our vows and to make good choices, or we may suffer the same fate.”

From the other side of the pyre, two men approached the mound of wood, waiting for their part of the ceremony.

“One day an elderly woman asked young Jack for his help with a task. Having thought of her as just a mere mortal, he agreed and did as was asked of him. For his help The Crone bade him to speak three wishes to be granted.”

Thoughts of the woman from the grocer came to mind. Of the events that followed, leading me to finding Will after so many years apart.

“Greed for what he could wish for filled his heart, causing him to ask for that which does not benefit his community and brings harm to others.”

Will pressed his lips against my ear, his voice so low I’m surprised I heard him, “I always wondered what he could have wished for to be condemned to purgatory.”

Afraid of drawing attention I nodded, watching as Danny moved about the platform, handing items to Master Sailas.

“Seeing the evil hiding in his soul, she banned him from rest, forcing him to travel the world as nothing more than a Wisp save for four days out of a year, when the veil is the thinnest.”

At this Will couldn’t help but scoff, “As if being a Wisp is a bad thing.”

“Upon seeing the potential chaos he could cause in the world, during these days when wandering souls are their strongest, our village’s founding council was asked to create a vessel to house his essence.”

Danny opens the black box, revealing the pumpkin I had worked all day carving to the crowd. Gasps and whispers drifted about, as people turned their attention to the vessel, the council pausing long enough for them to do so before their voices drew us all back to them.

“Since that first night we have come together, to freely give a bit of our magic, to cast a spell upon the chosen vessel and trap Stingy Jack’s soul, so the world may sleep in blissful ignorance.”

I always hate this part. While they may say they are asking for access to our magic, it always feels like we aren’t given a choice.

Ribbons of oily magic would wrap around mine while they chanted. Holding her down while ripping a small part away, leaving behind a small wound in my soul that would take days to heal.

If this was a gift why did it hurt so much, even when I wasn’t fighting them? As a child the sensation always made me cry. My mother would scold me, hissing that I was bringing shame to the family as people nearby would look at us. A few would have pity in their eyes but most would just return their attention to the council members, having taken silent note of just whose parents they will need to talk to later because their child had disturbed the ceremony.

Will tightened his arms around me, pulling me so firmly against his chest I couldn’t move away. Not that I wanted to. Instead, I found my body relaxing against his, enjoying the feeling of safety and security. His magic wrapped around mine, creating a barrier against the council’s oily ribbons, making it so they could not latch on.

If any of the council members noticed they gave no reaction, their chanting growing louder with each iteration.

For the first time I’m able to just simply stand and watch as a feeling of unease churned in my gut, now that I was no longer an unwilling participant.

From the platform thick oily ribbons reached from the council member’s chest, branching towards the rest of us standing in the square. Each strand slithering through the air, searching for a body to latch on to. A few children whimpered by their parents' sides, cringing away the moment one of the ribbons touched them. While everyone else stood still, their eyes glazed over as the foreign magic grabbed onto theirs, wrapping around their bodies in a tight coil.

How does no one see what’s going on?

A feeling of horror chilled my body as I continued to helplessly watch.

“Look,” I felt the command more than heard it as Raiden cawed from nearby. My eyes shifted from the crowd over to the pyre, somehow knowing that was where I was being directed.

It was only now that I noticed the flickers of flames from the center of the pyre. Wisps of white smoke fanned out, chasing along the paths of the council’s magic, thickening the ribbons until they solidified into a physical rope.

Behind the platform the clock’s hands to the position of midnight, signifying the end of Mischief Night and the beginning of Halloween. Its tolls calling out over the crowd, the council members becoming silent as the final words of their chant echoed through the square. With the final stroke of the bell the pyre went up in a blaze of flames, causing every strand of magic to recoil, ripping a small ball of energy from every person as the ribbons split in two. Half of the magical energy winding its way back to the hosting council while the other half circled the vessel, depositing each ball inside before dissipating into the night.

A look of confusion crossed over many of the faces of the crowd, now that they were no longer being held hostage. But none voiced out any concerns, including myself despite the sense of wrongness raging in my soul, having gone through the same experience for as long as any of us can remember.

Now that their part was finished the council members took a step back, allowing Master Sailas and his apprentice, Danny to move to the center. While the older warlock walked with confidence, having faith in his ability with the next part of the ceremony from years of participation, Danny looked a little green and more than a bit shaken up, as he carried the small table the vessel was sitting on to the center of the platform.

Maybe he saw the oily ribbons too. Maybe he sensed how wrong it was. But then I remembered seeing a bit of the fractured powers, the halves that weren’t placed into the vessel, merging with his own.

At their back the pyre’s flames licked hungrily at the air, casting them in shadows. The magic inside the vessel spun about, shining through the carved holes like a beacon of red light. Once everything was in place Danny took a step back, allowing all attention to shift to Master Sailas.

Wearing a dark ceremonial robe that made him resemble more like a disembodied head than a man–I couldn’t help but snicker at that sudden image–he raised his arms to the sky and began chanting. Sparks flew to the sky, dancing on the wind as they were carried off to the unseen clouds. Supposedly on a mission to call forth and bring back the essence of Jack.

As the minutes passed I found myself ignoring the elderly man who was busy prancing about the stage. His arms flying this way and that as if he dared to command nature itself. Instead I watched the light inside the pumpkin, catching the exact moment when it changed from a bright red to a vivid green.

“He’s here,” the two words spoken softly on an exhale of breath.