MASS RELEASE on 31st Dec? Read the author’s note.
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She would finally get to know about her father?
All these years, her mother and her had no clue about where he was and now that the opportunity of knowing where he was, knocked on her door. Penny didn’t wait to seize it.
“Yes, please. If it is possible,” she added, tightening her grip on the crystal ball, making sure not squeezing it too hard, just in case she ends up breaking. The previous time she had held the tube, the tube had shattered by itself.
Seconds started to pass by with the candle flickering every now and then with the black witch’s words that went on under her breath, Penny sat with her heart beginning to beat nervously. After some time, the woman pulled her hand away from where she had been holding the crystal with her open palm,
“I am not able to find him. I will need something which is of his,” on hearing this Penny shook her head in disappointment.
“I don’t think there’s anything I have with me that belongs to him.”
“You do,” the black witch smiled, the only good eye on her face crinkled, “The blood that runs in your veins is your father’s. He is definitely a white witch.”
Penny was surprised that Bathsheba thought that her father was a white witch, “How can you assume that?”
“That is how the offsprings of the white and black works. It is usually the white that prevails while leaving the inheritance of the black witch behind. I will need your hand. I don’t think you would mind, do you?” Penny who was about to respond, saw the woman turn to look at Damien who was sitting crossed leg staring at them.
Was the black witch asking him because she was his slave?
“It is her wish,” with a simple reply Bathsheba raised her hand as if already knowing that Penny would give her hand willingly. Penny placed her hand on the black witch’s hand who didn’t wait but ran one of her sharp nails on her palm making Penny wince with the tear of her skin. Blood started to ooze out of her hand. The woman turned around her hand to let the blood fall on her own before she took the drops towards the candle and let the blood drop fall right at the flame which touched the flame to only disappear in thin air without wetting the tip of the candle.
More muttering took place until the crystal ball started to turn dark with the sizzle of the candle before the candle stilled itself.
“He is dead,” Bathsheba didn’t sugarcoat the words and delivered the news as it was. Penny felt her heart sink. She knew it. Somewhere deep down in her heart, Penny knew that her father had died a long time ago. Else why would a man leave his wife and daughter stranded to be all alone in this world, which was nothing but cruel to them? Tears formed in her eyes, the darkness and the light coming from the candle and the lantern making her eyes sparkle like gemstones but she didn’t allow herself to cry. Blinking back the tears so that it would dry by themselves she took a subtle deep breath.
“Is there a way to know as to how he died? What caused his death?” her voice shook as she asked this.
Damien who was sitting through the entire session looked at Penny, listening to her heart shudder at the thought of what might have happened to her father. She didn’t even get to spend time with the man yet he could feel her despair.
“Yes, but I don’t have all the items that are used to create the ritual. It would take more than blood from you which-”
Damien interrupted Bathsheba from continuing any further by saying, “That won’t be necessary. The black market is having a parade next week. We aren’t in a hurry where you will have to use a substitute. I am sure Penny can wait until then,” he said looking at Penny.
Penny looked at him with her furrowed brows. Truthfully she wanted to know about her father right now. When Penny had been small as she grew up, she never got to know what it felt like to have a father to protect his family and love his child. While others looked up at their fathers, she had none but her mother who was trying to keep her safe but life had never been easy. Being bullied by the children and having her things stolen was one of the most common things when she was a young girl. She wanted to know what happened to him. Was he killed by a vampire? Or was it the witches?
Damien looked at the black witch sharply. Black witches often didn’t get everything to perform the ritual which was when they picked the shortcut by using sacrifices that went from animal sacrifices to humans.
As Penny tried to console herself, she felt a hand on her shoulder which was none other than Damien’s when Bathsheba said, “Would you like to know about your mother?”
Her mother had died out of illness. Penny didn’t see the point of hearing something she had witnessed and gone through next to her mother’s death bed, “Her mother passed away a few months ago,” Damien filled the black witch who tilted her head with a frown.
“Died?” the black witch asked, her voice coming out to be one of disbelief, “What do you mean?” she asked not able to grasp what was told.
Penny took a few seconds to gather her thoughts over her parents before letting the black witch know, “My mother fell ill seven to eight months ago. She caught an illness,” and even though there was a doctor in the very village, the man had refused to come to see her mother which had broken her heart making her feel helpless. By the time she had managed to catch hold of another doctor from the neighboring village, it had been too late and her mother had died after a week of the doctor’s visit.
