A/N's: Thank you all for the absolutely amazing response this last week. My reviews went from 385 to 448. Now that's not a lot to some fic's out there, but to me it was like Christmas!
AcrossTheSkyInStars – you are so awesome and I don't know what I'd do without you. I hope you realise that you're my beta forever now! :o)
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and Khakani (dot) com has helped me with the spells used in this chapter, but I own BellaWitched! Hmm, not sure on that nickname so would gladly take any other suggestions.
Ch16 The Book of Shadows
I felt my hands start to shake. Quickly turning the pages, I found other inscriptions, along with notes and symbols, adjustments and scribbles, littering the pages. I flicked through the chapters and realised my mother had not just added information, but she had also left me her thoughts, ideas, changes, criticisms, and alternatives for every spell, on every page.
She was sharing with me her vast amount of knowledge in the form of the written word and I was eternally grateful, for I had no knowledge of what I was, what I should be or even where to start. Her foresight in leaving me her legacy touched me deeply.
I closed the book and held it my chest, letting my tears fall.
"Thank you, mama," I whispered.
I had only gazed briefly at the first few pages but I knew I should read it with care. I had to start at the beginning.
I leant back in my chair and traced the faded contours of the symbol embellished on the front cover. I had no idea what the symbol was called or what it conveyed; I had never seen the like before.
It was a simple design of a star encased in a circle. No other patterns or features surrounded it. I opened the cover again and re-read the first inscription. It had been written on a thin, almost clear, sheet of paper. The fibres of material used to make the page were still visible, but when stroked, the page was smooth and the flow of pen over paper would not have been hindered by bumps or grains in its composition.
The second page told me exactly what I was holding.
Isabella, this book is a combination of my journal and a spell book. It contains my accumulated knowledge in the practice of magic.
Among Wiccan beliefs this is known as the 'Book of Shadows'.
R
The title held an ominous meaning to me and I was grateful for my mother's explanation. I settled back into the chair and read through the first few pages. It contained information on those Wiccan beliefs she'd mentioned, and told me of the long and ancient line I had descended from. I felt privileged to be reading the contents of this wholly important book, but it also made me feel disengaged.
I was not one of these people of which she spoke about. These spells and chants were merely words and rhymes to me; I had no idea of their strength or meaning or even their power. Yes, they explained their purpose as well as the necessary tools required, but I had yet to witness the effects any of these 'so called' spells could have. At present, they were only words, and I found it difficult to believe them.
I continued to be introduced to Renee's history and her life, but the more I read, the more I knew this was not my life. I didn't even know if it was who I wanted to be.
I closed the book and lay my head back against the chair. I felt confused and lost and longed for the days when I had never known my birthright, when my dreams were bright and easy and my days were filled with the chores that awaited me. It was a stark contrast to the task now at hand, and I doubted I had the ability to see it through. It had been a long time since my dreams had been pleasant ones.
The responsibility of the book, its knowledge, and the lessons I needed to learn weighed heavy on my mind, and I eventually fell asleep, sitting upright with the book on my lap. My dreams contained dark images of robed individuals, words of mystery and mythical influence swirling around my head until they finally faded to silence.
I awoke to see my father removing the book from my limp hands. He wrapped it back up in the cheesecloth and placed it on the table between us.
"I see you've found your book."
"I didn't mean to pry," I began to explain.
"Bella, it's yours. You don't need to justify yourself to me."
"But it was in your bag. I respect your privacy, dad, I wasn't snooping."
"I should've given it to you sooner."
"So why didn't you?" I asked him with a smile.
"When I was brought here there was too much going on to mention a book of such significance in front of James."
"But when you told me about my mother, you could've given it to me then."
"That's true. I'm sorry. I wanted to keep you, like this, for just a little while longer. The book and its contents may very well change who you are, forever."
"I think you were right to hold onto it a little longer, dad. I've only looked briefly, but it scares me. I don't think this is really who I am."
"She wrote in it for you."
I nodded. "You've read it?" I asked him.
"Not the spells, only her words to you. I miss her."
"Oh dad." I leant across the table and clutched his hand.
He accepted my sympathy for only a moment and then removed his hand from beneath mine. "What's in here?" He asked lifting the pouch of crystals and emptying them out into his hand.
The sunlight flowing through the window glittered of various gems, igniting their colours and hitting the walls as prisms. But where some contained rainbows in their radiance, others were dull and dark. I recognised a few such amethyst and Emerald, Rose and Amber; stones I had seen around our home as a child, before Charlie had packed them away with my mother's belongings. But other's I hadn't seen before and knew nothing of their names or origins.
"They're crystals, but for what, I don't know yet."
"Is it in the book?" He nodded in its direction.
"Possibly," I agreed. "I didn't find anything in the beginning, maybe further along?" I shrugged.
I sat back in my chair and watched the flames dance across the logs in the hearth, the crackle and spit as it licked it's way over its kindling feast was soothing. "This doesn't feel right," I said quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't – I've read through the book and it just doesn't –" I struggled to explain what I was feeling. In truth, I was afraid. I doubted the potions and the spells, and all the stories and information I'd been given related to me. It was like I was hearing the tale of someone else's life, not mine. Not me. I doubted I could be the person my mother had believed me to be.
"Bella, I know this is a huge transition, but you can't deny who you are. This is your bloodline, your heritage; it has been all along, even before you were born. You can't fight that and I think you should consider listening to what your mother has to say."
"It's just so scary, dad. I don't think I can do this. I'm not capable."
"Of course not, you only have half the information you need. No one can truly learn anything from a brief glance. I think you should read, and then we'll tackle this thing together, hmm?"
I smiled at him and felt comforted by his presence and his words. For the first time in my life both my parents in were the room with me, lending me their guidance and advice; one spiritually, the other in body. It was up to me to take it.
"I believe in you and all you can do. I see it when I look at you, because you're just like your mother. She saw it too, in her dreams and all that she believed in. She knew you were destined for this, Bella."
I held my hand out for the book and the crystals and heard my stomach rumble just as he placed them both in my lap.
"I shall fetch us breakfast." He smiled and walking to the door, he spoke quickly with the guard outside.
I turned back to the last page I'd read. I tried to concentrate on the words, reading through and imagining the process. Some of the spells were small and appeared to involve only few or sometimes even no ingredients or tools at all, and some of the spells were incredibly long and required many items to aid them. It read almost like a recipe book with amounts, flavours, and combinations required. The instructions were elaborate and I wondered at the truth behind them. They seemed written by an ageless belief system, and again I doubted, but not myself this time, I doubted the spells would even work.
A knock at the door some time later alerted us to the arrival of breakfast, and I continued to read as Charlie opened the door.
Mary Alice and a guard entered the room, so I closed and hid the book behind me. As she prepared the table, the guard set more logs by the fire. I was touched by his simple act of kindness, but held back in acknowledging him. He was a minion of James after all, and despite knowing that most of James' allies were blackmailed into serving beside him, I was reluctant to trust this guard based only on compassion.
None of us spoke whilst he was present. Charlie helped himself to a plate of food and returned to his rooms. Before the guard also departed, he turned to me and took from his pocket a small package.
I looked up at him and then back at his offering.
"It's from your fiancé, ma'am," he said and I took the box and watched him leave.
"What is it?" Mary Alice asked, rushing over from the table.
"I know and I don't care," I said and placed it on the arm of the chair.
"Can I open it?" She asked. I smiled at her enthusiasm.
"Mary Alice, there is nothing in the world that man can give me, except his head on a silver platter, that would make me smile like you are. Why are you so happy anyway?"
"Jasper wrote me." She sat on the floor at my feet and grinned. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a tattered letter. It looked as if it had been opened and closed a thousand times; I was sure she had memorised each and every word.
"What did he say?" I returned her smile.
"Isabella, it's a love letter." She blushed and looked away. I laughed and urged her to tell me what he'd written.
"He tells me how he's always cared for me, but for a while he only felt like an older brother to me, especially when we were kids. The he talks about how that changed the summer we went fishing."
"You went fishing?" I smiled at her as she recalled in her memories the summer of which Jasper spoke of.
"I've always liked him and I wanted him to notice me, so I fell in and pretended I couldn't swim. He jumped in and rescued me, and as he carried me to shore, I clung to him. Oh Isabella, it felt so right, to be held by him. I didn't care my clothes stuck to me and left me little modesty, it just felt like I belonged with him."
"What happened?" I felt caught up in her excitement.
"There was eye contact, it lasted a while but then he set me down and the moment was gone. It changed things between us after that, but still not enough for him to admit he felt it too. Only now, he says he would like to court me, when he returns." She clutched the note to her chest and grinned. "I'm so happy."
"Oh Mary Alice, I'm so happy for you too."
"Me too," She smiled and we giggled at her repetition, but as our laughter faded, so too did her smile, and worry replaced her expression.
"Mary Alice, what is it?" I climbed off the chair and sat beside her on the floor.
"Isabella, how selfish is it of me to dream of my own happy ending?"
"It's not selfish at all."
"But I see you suffer in the company of James. He tears you away from your real love and threatens everyone around you just to appease his own sadistic nature. Then I see Rosalie, a shell of a woman she used to be, searching the forest undergrowth for the body of her husband and visiting her sick child. She too, subjects herself to awful acts with that man and I dread to think what my mother has been through. But when I think of Jasper, I smile." She dropped the letter and clutched at my hand. "Isabella, I imagine being in his arms and I feel my heart stop. I dream of being his wife and know it's the reason I am alive, and then I remember the reality we're in and I feel so ashamed."
"You shouldn't feel ashamed. You should feel love, and there is no shame in that. Do you know how lucky you are to be free and able to be with the man you adore? Mary Alice, we don't get many chances in life to be happy, you should take it, and hold on tight. Never let it go."
Both Mary Alice and I wiped at the tears which had suddenly fallen silently as we held each other's hands. I wanted her to know it wasn't wrong to love, even in times as hard as these. No matter what the outcome, life goes on.
"Did you write him back?" I asked her.
"No, he returns in three days, I thought –" She stopped short and put her hand over her mouth, gasping at the realisation that should Jasper return in three days, so too would his master.
Three days.
That was all the time I had and it suddenly felt like a death sentence awaited me.
I lifted the box from the arm of the chair and opened it. I wanted to see what trinket he had sent to appease me this time. There was a smaller box inside, and it hosted a beautiful bracelet. A solid silver band with a beautiful white stone nestled in its centre.
"What gem is that?" Mary Alice asked touching the jewel tentatively.
I brushed my finger across its dull surface and replied. "It's an opal." I had seen such a stone worn by my Aunt Irina in a necklace.
"Are you sure, the one's I've seen have always appeared clear, this seems – cloudy."
"It's described as milky; it's not a good sign."
"How do you know that?" Mary Alice asked.
I reached behind me and pulled the book out from beneath a cushion. Without reaching the section on the crystals, I already knew the information would be contained in its pages. "My mother left me this." I handed Mary Alice the book.
"What is it?" She whispered, flicking through the first few pages. "Isabella, this is a book of spells!"
I nodded.
She looked back up at me, the book momentarily forgotten on her knee. "Then you really are – a witch?" She spoke quietly, as if an unknown eavesdropper may be close by.
"I believe so," I whispered back.
She narrowed her eyes. "You believe so?"
"Edward thought it may be true, he – sensed something. But then James also mentioned it and then he tried to prove it to me."
"How did he do that?"
I was unsure of how to speak of these things, to admit any of this was a danger to me and my family. But I trusted Mary Alice, so I told her. "He asked me to hold something of Victoria's and I – felt something."
"Victoria, his sister?"
I stared at her, disbelieving. Victoria was James' sister? But he had told me he'd been in love with her. In love, like a man and wife, not loved like a brother and sister! He'd coveted her and then killed her when she had been untrue to him, and all along, she was prohibited to be his, by blood.
His sister
"Isabella, you've gone white. Are you ok?"
Mary Alice grabbed my arm and rubbed it, trying to bring circulation back to my skin.
"Sister?" I turned to her and asked. "Victoria was his sister?"
Mary Alice nodded.
"But he said he loved her!" I told her. "He said she was the one."
Mary Alice nodded again. "I heard rumours of such a relationship between them, but I didn't know it was true. Victoria would never admit anything, but it was soon forgotten when she became involved with another."
"You knew her?" I asked.
"I was her lady in waiting."
"Mary Alice, can you tell me what you know? I'm sorry if it feels like I'm intruding, it's just that he gave me her jewellery, and I saw things. Then there's the things he said, he told me we were alike in many ways but one. I don't know what way he meant, he hasn't said what it was."
"Well, I'm guessing the way in which you differ is that she was related to him and you are not. He wasn't allowed to love her, but with you, he's reminded of her strong will and he's free to have you."
"That's disgusting!"
She nodded. "I agree."
"Will you tell me?" I urged her.
Mary Alice sat back and stared into the flames of the fire. Sighing, she began to tell me the story as she knew it.
"Victoria and I were friends when we were children, and when she reached 13, she became introduced into society. She was now a woman, ready to meet her husband. Because we were friends, I was granted the role of her lady. It was also an honour for me to be trusted and work for a family as prestige as theirs.
"She was so much fun, Isabella you would've been friends with her I'm sure. She was feisty and adventurous and never afraid. Her opinions would get her into trouble but she was well liked within the community, so people just accepted her. Then suddenly she became withdrawn and nervous. She went off her food and no longer cared about fun. This was around the time that I heard rumours about her and James so I confronted her.
"She didn't get mad, or upset, she just looked me in the eye and denied it. I had no reason to think she was lying, how could such awful rumours be true?
"It was a few days later that I heard her arguing with James. She tried to walk away from him but he refused to let it lie. He grabbed her and she was crying and begging him to release her. At first I thought she meant his hand on her arm, but now I think she meant for him to allow her to live her life without condemnation. He told her he would never let her go so she vowed to hurt him until he did. She introduced me to her new beau a week later, his name was Benjamin. They courted for a while and then he proposed."
I listened to Mary Alice retell the sordid affair of Victoria and James, and through her words I could imagine his desperation to cling to someone who he endeared. But James' love was toxic, and of course, their relationship was damned. Victoria knew this and yet he couldn't let her be. This man was psychotic.
"James killed them," I whispered.
Mary Alice shrugged. "Well, that's just it, we don't know. They disappeared and no one has seen nor heard from either of them since. I like to think they eloped and managed to live a somewhat happy and peaceful existence, but now you say they're dead? You've seen things?"
"Mary Alice, I don't know what I saw. I'm so new to all of this. I have no idea what I'm doing."
I gestured to the book and the pouch of crystals, which Mary Alice reached for. She opened the book and scanned the pages for a few minutes. I ate while she read.
Suddenly she paused and pointed at a page. "Isabella, look at this."
I glanced over at what she was referring to; a healing spell. My mother's writing appeared all around it, advising a combination of two for better affect. She referred to a crystal in the use of the spell.
"Use Hematite; the black stone. Whatever illness befalls should be reflected back into the stone and imprisoned there," I read aloud.
Her notes continued below, the handwriting slightly larger as though it was added as an afterthought possibly at a later date. Excitement seemed evident in these additional notes.
"I have just discovered this can be used at a later date for enemies. The more sickness given to Hematite, the more ill the chosen individual will become. Be aware, that such a deed is unnatural in the belief of Wiccan, hurting someone is not permitted. This could have effect three fold." The last sentence was underlined three times.
I knew what she was warning me of. I could, if I so desired, use the sickness from others to harm another person, using the crystal Hematite. But if I was to sicken a person, I should be wary of the consequences.
Wiccan beliefs were more centred on helping people, contrary to popular convictions. I was angry at this realisation, as people were so afraid of the unexplained or unknown, and rather than embrace a belief that treated all; the poor, the rich, the needy and the worthy as equals, they met it with consternation and terror instead.
"Do you think you could use this to help Ava?" Mary Alice asked.
I looked at her in disbelief. I had just admitted I was a novice and didn't know what to do, but yet she was willing for me to try to heal a sick child?
"Mary Alice, I don't know if I can."
"She's dying already, Isabella. What is the worst that can happen? You may save her."
"I might kill her. Or do nothing at all."
"Can't you at least try?"
I thought about it. "I need to practice first. I've never done this before."
"We don't have time." She leant closer to me. "She doesn't have time."
"I need time, Mary Alice," I pressed at her to understand. "We need to find a subject, or something, just so I can know. She's a baby, I can't take a chance, I'd never forgive myself."
Mary Alice looked around the room and her eye stopped on a mouse trap set in the corner. It had snapped shut at some point during the night and caught in its spring device was the small brown body of a rodent.
"There." She pointed.
"This spell is to heal, Mary Alice, not resurrect!"
"No, you don't understand." She pointed again. "It's still alive."
I looked again and realised she was right. It was twitching. She got up and went over, picking up the entire trap and coming back over to me.
"I can't believe you're doing this." I stared at her in amazement. It was one of the most disgusting and unusual ideas I had ever known.
"What's wrong with you?" She looked up at me. "You, apparently, have this unbelievable ability and you're unwilling to establish just how powerful you really are because you're scared? If it is true, do you know what you could do?
"My father works hard to heal and save people, Isabella, but he fights a losing battle with some sicknesses and he has to look families in the eye and explain why his genius just wasn't enough! It breaks his heart but he never gives up; he studies and he experiments and he tries. And that is all this is; an experiment."
She was right. There was so much good in the knowledge I held in my book, I just had to learn how to combine that with the practical aspects. If it didn't work, at least I'd tried. I had to try. I had to stop questioning it.
"Ok." I nodded my head. "You're right, let's try."
Mary Alice clapped her hands together and placed the trap on the floor between us. "What do you need?" She asked.
I looked through the spell and read the ingredients required. The list was small. "A piece of pure cotton and the Hematite stone," I told her, "and our subject." I nodded towards the mouse.
"Pure cotton?" She asked. "How pure?"
I read again and shrugged. "I'm thinking as pure as it can come. This is some sort of cleansing spell so it will probably work better with something barely touched or used."
"I have just the thing." She jumped up and raced from the room. I sat on the floor and waited. She returned 10 minutes later clutching a bundle to her chest. "Here." She held it out for me to take.
I untied the string and carefully peeled back the cloth to find a beautiful, stark white cotton baby gown folded in its centre.
"Oh Mary Alice, it's beautiful."
"It was mine," she smiled, "my Christening gown. I wore it once as a babe and now I save it for my own children."
"Well, it doesn't get purer than that." I smiled. I went to wash my hands before touching it. I didn't want to dirty the pristine material in anyway.
We sat on the floor again and I lifted the gown onto my lap. Mary Alice pulled back the trap and carefully lifted out the mouse. Its back leg was bent and flattened slightly, no doubt broken, but it neither struggled nor moved in her hand; it just lay still as if accepting its fate.
I chose the Hematite stone from the pouch. It was unusual; its colour was almost black but also grey at times. It was as smooth as a pebble and undeniably the correct crystal as it held a certain omnipotence in its aura. The other crystals seemed too colourful in comparison.
I held it in my hand and read instructions from the page of the book. Placing the crystal in the centre of the Christening gown, I folded it over the stone. I held out my hand for the mouse and Mary Alice placed him in my palm. I shuddered at the image of what I was holding but tried to push the macabre thoughts aside and concentrate on what I was doing.
I placed my free hand over the covered stone and read aloud. "Wrap thee in cotton. Bind thee with love, protection from pain. Surround like a glove. May the brightest of blessings surround thee this night, for thou art cared for, healing thoughts send flight."
I envisioned the mouse as I wanted him to be, running for cover, not a broken limb in sight. I glanced back at the page and finished the spell.
"Stone of Hematite, stone so black. Give me the healing energy that I lack. Stone of Hematite, stone of Hematite. Heal this creature now with the speed of light."
I hovered my palm over the crystal and closed my eyes, concentrating on the vibrations I was told I should feel.
At first nothing happened and I felt disappointed it hadn't worked. But a sudden warmth spread through my hand and crept up to my wrist, with a burst of energy, it raced up my arm and down the other, till it reached the hand clasping the broken mouse. I gasped and my eyes flew open.
"What is it?" Mary Alice was practically bouncing.
I opened my hand, and to my complete shock the mouse sat up on his hind legs, nibbling at his tiny front paws. He licked at his whiskers and sat staring around the room. He seemed in no hurry to go anywhere as Mary Alice and I watched in bewilderment. After a moment he seemed brave enough to try so I placed my hand closer to the floor and watched as he scurried away and behind the dresser.
"It worked!" I said, my mouth open, staring at the trap set on the ground between us.
"Oh my!" Mary Alice clapped her hand over her mouth and stared at me, wide eyed but with awe. "You did it."
I nodded. "I know." We stared at each other, the book and the crystal, both unsure of what to say or do next.
"What now?" I ventured to ask.
"Now we go get Ava." She smiled.
I nodded. "Can you remember the way to the caves?"
"They have my mother; I shall never forget the way."
"Shall I come with you?"
"I think it's too risky. I should go alone, and bring her here."
"Mary Alice." I grabbed her hand as she stood to go. "Be careful." She nodded, bent and kissed my cheek, then left.
I tidied the room as I awaited her return, then bathed and dressed and even visited with Charlie, but grew concerned at the length of time she had now been gone.
"What if something happened to her?" I asked Charlie as I paced by the window.
"She'll come," he tried to assure me. A knock at the door had me running to answer it, but as I flung it open I frowned. Carlisle stepped inside and not Mary Alice.
"I've come to check on your father." He smiled and I stood aside to allow him entry. I left them alone and went back to my bedroom to find a note pushed beneath the door. It was from Mary Alice asking me to meet her in her home as too many guards prohibited her bringing Ava to my rooms.
I gathered the crystals, the book and the Christening gown and packed them into a bundle. I opened the door and faced the guard. I stepped past him and stopped, waiting for him to question my destination but he merely stood silent.
As James' prisoner I'd had no freedom, but as his fiancé I was able to come and go from my rooms without hindrance. I rushed down the hall and outside, dashing through the courtyard and towards the Doctor's cottage. I had never been there before and if there was no medical sign hanging outside the front door, I would not have known where find it.
Mary Alice was pacing the floor as I stepped inside. Ava was lying in blankets atop the bed. Pressed by her side was a knitted bunny rabbit. Its colour once pale blue was now grey with years of loving cuddles and grime. Rosalie sat on the floor at her daughter's side. She clutched at Ava's hand and wept.
"Rosalie." I stepped forward and placed my package on the bedside table. "I'm here to help." I whispered.
She nodded. "Mary Alice told me," she said.
I opened the bundle and took out my tools, but was interrupted as the door opened and Carlisle stood in its frame. None of us moved, nor spoke. He had caught us unawares and we had no excuse for the book and child lying on the bed.
He glanced at us all in surprise, then spying Ava he threw down his bag and rushed to the bed.
"Rosalie, is this Ava?"
She nodded and moved aside for him to conduct his inspection. "She's gotten worse, Carlisle."
Turning to Mary Alice he instructed her to fetch some medicines and warm water. He tried to control her temperature and loosened her clothing, but it made no difference to the sickly child.
"She hasn't been conscious in days," Rosalie explained, her tears smearing the grime on her cheeks.
"You should've brought her to me sooner," he scolded her then placed his hand on her shoulder as if in apology for sounding so harsh.
"Esme tried." Rosalie couldn't continue.
"Esme?" Carlisle asked.
"Mama has been looking after Ava, Dad," Mary Alice explained. "But it's so dirty and dark and cold down there, tis no place for a child."
With thoughts of his wife, so close yet so far from him, momentarily stilling his movements, Carlisle shook himself out of his reverie. "We may have to bleed her." Carlisle set about sterilising his equipment.
"No!" Rosalie cried and covered her daughter's body with her own.
"It will cleanse her blood," Carlisle explained.
"She's already weak. If you bleed her it will be her end." She stood and pushed him away. "I don't want you to. I don't need you to touch her." Rosalie was shaking she turned from a shocked Carlisle and held her hands out to me. "Help us, please help us."
Carlisle looked at me and frowned. "What can you do?" His eye caught the package sitting by the bed, and walking over he opened it and look at the contents. "A book of shadows?" He lifted it in his hands and turned back to face me. "James was right about you?"
I broke out in a cold sweat. Too many people were now privy to this information, and the more people who knew, the more danger I was in; me and my family.
"Isabella." Rosalie pushed past him and grabbed my hand. "I implore you." She pressed my hand to her cheek. "She's all I have left, you have to help her. Don't let her die, don't let my baby die."
I sobbed openly with her, and biting my lip, I shook my head. "I don't know if I can. Carlisle is a Doctor, he's her best bet."
"It's too late for that." Rosalie's words became hiccups as she fought to make me understand.
Carlisle stepped over to Ava, and lifting her limp wrist he counted her pulse, shaking his head as he placed her hand over her tiny chest and looked away.
"Daddy?" Mary Alice walked towards him. "Is she?"
He shook his head. "Not yet but there isn't much time left,"
"NO!" Rosalie fell to her knees, gripping the hem of my skirts she begged me, begged Carlisle, begged anyone who could hear, to save her child. "Help me, I'll do anything, I'll give you anything. Please, please help me. I have nothing. I have no one. If she dies, then so do I. I can't - she doesn't deserve this." She let go and standing, she rushed over to Ava. "She's only a child. She doesn't deserve this."
"Isabella." Carlisle picked up the book and handed it to me. "Can you help her?"
I stared at him. Witchcraft went beyond all he knew. Carlisle was a scientist and yet he stood before me, acknowledging I may be their last hope.
I glanced at Ava and watched her tiny body struggle to breathe. She shuddered with each exhale and it broke my heart. Something inside of me clicked and I knew I could do this.
I had to do this.
I nodded and took the Christening gown from the package. I lifted Ava up and stripped off her damp and dirty clothes. Taking the washcloth Carlisle had used to abate her temperature I cleaned her grubby skin as best I could and then tugged the gown over her head, laying her back down on the bed. I took the crystal and placed it in the small pocket at her hip. I opened the book and read the verse; somehow hardly needing to glance back at the page for I knew the words. They fell from my lips, fast and soft, but clear.
"Wrap thee in cotton. Bind thee with love, protection from pain. Surround like a glove. May the brightest of blessings surround thee this night, for thou art cared for, healing thoughts send flight."
I closed my eyes and held my hand above the pocket. I concentrated on the vibrations, and unlike the spell with the mouse, this time I felt them almost immediately. I envisioned Ava, with rosy cheeks and a chubby smile, running and laughing and living her life in full, with happiness and teenage years ahead of her, meeting her love and finding a complete fulfilment in the birth of her first child. I imagined her nursing her babe and looking at her husband with adoration. She would grow old and die warm in her bed, surrounded by her family and she would know she had no regrets and had lived a long and happy life. Just like anyone should.
I spoke the last verse and brushed my free hand over her hair, rubbing her sallow cheek with my thumb. "Stone of Hematite, stone so black. Give me the healing energy that I lack. Stone of Hematite, stone of Hematite. Heal Ava now with the speed of light."
Nobody spoke, only the sound of our breathing filled the room. Ava didn't move. No colour had returned to her face, no relief permitted her breathing, and I wondered if we had been fools to believe.
I looked at them all. They stood holding hands and were watching me. Rosalie was the first to move. She let go of Mary Alice's hand and stepped to the bedside. She looked down at her daughter and then back at me with a question in her eyes.
I didn't have the answer.
"Let's leave her be," Carlisle suggested. "Peace and quiet is usually the best medicine."
I appreciated his attempt at trying to lighten the atmosphere, and begrudgingly we all stepped next door into the kitchen.
Mary Alice made tea and we sipped in silence. I couldn't take my eyes off Rosalie. Her heart seemed to be breaking before my very eyes. She rested her head in her arms, over the table top, and every so often, a shudder would catch her breath and tears would fall. She made no move to wipe them away.
A slight shuffle behind us made us turn to the sound, all except Rosalie who remained immobile, her grief too real to struggle past.
Mary Alice gasped as Ava stood in the doorway, rubbing at her sleepy eyes. She clutched her bunny to her chest and yawned. Glancing around the room her little blue eyes fell on her mummy's bowed head.
"Rosalie." I nudged her and nodded towards the door. Slowly she lifted her head and gazed with blurry eyes in the direction we had all turned.
"Mama," Ava started to suck her thumb as Rosalie jumped up and scoop her baby in her arms.
"Thank you, thank you so much," she cried, her sobs punctuating her words. She cradled Ava against her chest.
I felt Carlisle press his hand on my shoulder and give me a gentle squeeze. "Miracles do exist," he murmured, "If you believe."
End A/N's: There is a photograph of an actual "book of shadows" on my profile. The one I imagine Bella owing has only the pentagram and circle on the front cover, no other symbols.
Spellbound has been chosen as fic of the week by the Sandbox, They will 'chat' to me on the 'chatzy' 'chat' room at 6pm British time, 1pm central time. If you have any questions relating to Spellbound or anything else about me, or would just like to talk then log on! I'll post the link on my profile here on FFN. The password is "Robward"
If you need more information about 'chatzy' you can message me here on FFN.
I have to say my guy is so good to me. He came home with new sneakers for me last week, as mine are tattered and well worn, then tonight he met me at work and took me out to dinner! I think he needs rewarding (winks & giggles).
If you haven't already, please visit the "Faithful Shipper Awards" and place your votes, I need you (Claire attempts puppy dog eyes).
I've also entered "For the love of Jasper" contest, details of which can be found on Facebook and Twilighted (dot) net. My one shot entry is called "Last Request" and can be found on my profile. Please read, review and if you feel it's worthy also vote for me.
Love you all, I am your fangirl x