It was no great shock seeing power grow with the right motivations.

Through the Mirror, The Sorcerer watched Zara shrink into herself upon grasping the situation, of what she’d actually done to her aunt—a wretch that woman was—out of impulsive rage. She ran out of the dining room, forcing Rowan to practically fly out of her way in the process.

They feared her, all of them. Even if the brother was more tolerant than the rest, he would come to fear her completely too.

But The Sorcerer had to admit, it was an impressive trick she’d pulled, and one he’d seen before. She had the ability to expand the size of living things. Expanse Magic. Uses quite a bit of energy. The Sorcerer didn’t think such a non-energetic girl would have it in her, nor that her innate abilities would stem from it. If she put her mind to it, she’d be able to shrink things as well someday.

She was partway up the stairs when Zahir managed to chase her down, grab her arm, and yank back so hard that she tumbled down the rest of the steps. Lucky for her, she hadn’t gotten very far up in the first place.

The Mirror faded, leaving The Sorcerer staring at his own reflection again. He walked over to a shelf in his study filled with jars and small cartons of various spell supplies. From one of the jars, he lifted a raven’s feather—he’d found it drifting to the ground during his morning walk through the forest. He had jars containing other animal samplings too—he collected whatever he could find—but using bird feathers were his favorite.

He pulled on a heavy black cloak and cracked open the study window above his desk. With a few words, he enchanted the feather. And within seconds, he was flying out the window and into the chilly night.

“NO! NO! NO!” Zara wept. Her father was dragging her—by the hair—out into the courtyard.

Leyli and Rowan watched somberly from the parlor’s sliding door. Noina was lying in the guest room upstairs, still reeling from the bug attack like her life had almost ended for good.

“Ma! MA!” Zara screamed for her mother.

But she just stood there, staring back at Zara with regretful, watery eyes.

Do something then?! For the love of all holy, DO something!

Zahir yanked on the hair again for good measure. Zara shrieked.

“Zahir!” Leyli yelped.

Zahir tightened his clutch and pulled Zara further from the house, toward their tiny, dilapidated wood shed at the far far corner of the yard, where it was darkest and overgrown with disgusting weeds, and crawling with all sorts of creatures Zara wanted no where near herself.

“STOP!” she squealed, dropping to the ground like a rag doll. “BABA! STOP!”

Zahir hissed, finally letting go of her hair. He instead pulled at her hand and continued dragging her across the coarse, pebbled ground, taking no mind to Zara’s painful gasps at the scrapes she was accumulating on her legs and hip.

They had now reached the icy dirt and the gnarly weeds, and Zara forced herself up despite the raw aching of her legs. There was no way she wanted her body to be dragged over this. The area was always crawling with ants, worms, and black beetles—the same kind Zara regretfully assaulted Noina with. There were also the white centipedes, sickly long little things with a million legs, sharp fangs, and a thin body that glowed in the moonlight. Zara could see a few of them now and she shuddered violently, knowing there would be more among the untidy shed. As if they weren’t nasty enough as is, their bites hurt, and their poison was deadly in numbers.

Zahir unlocked the shed’s narrow door and threw it open. Instantly the smell of mildew, old wet dirt, and traces of animal feces penetrated Zara’s nose. Her panic worsened.

“Baba,” Zara whimpered pleadingly. “I’m sorry.”

“If it’s taken you this long to apologize, then I don’t think you are very sorry at all,” he snarled.

He shoved her inside, knocking her over the old, rusted gardening tools and other miscellaneous garbage Zara couldn’t see properly in the dark. The stench was unbearable; this shed hadn’t been maintained for over a year, and it was so small, Zara could spread out both arms and lay her palms flat on either wall.

“BABA!” she screamed when he shut the door and slid the lock.

She was trapped in complete darkness. No amount of blinking was going to make her eyes adjust to this. Zara managed to get herself up, cutting her arm on something in the process. She shrieked and cried and banged on the locked door, begging to be let out.

The wind blew threw the cracks of the shed and Zara shivered. It was cold, and it was only going to get colder as the hours went on. The icy, stinky air gliding along her sweaty skin was unbearable enough already. She couldn’t breath.

She didn’t think she would survive the night.

Zara screamed again, “LET ME OUT!”

She could hear muffled voices of her mother and brother, but no one came to her aid. The faint sound of a door slid shut in the distance.

Zara screeched at the top of her lungs. She would not survive the night in here.

She squatted down again and cried. She cried until she couldn’t breathe properly. The air grew even icier, and she couldn’t stop shivering. Her tears and snot were already frosting over. The only clothes Zara had on was a purple gown she wore casually around the house, and she usually paired it with a wool shawl. But the shawl had fallen off her as she attempted to escape the dining room, and the gown, despite having sleeves, wasn’t thick enough to protect her from any severe weather.

She curled up in a ball, ignoring the painful pokes of debris—or whatever it was that was always thrown in here for storage—on her back, but this was the best she could do to keep herself warm and shield her nose from the bad smells. She was likely squatting on top of old feces of some sort.

She regretted even thinking of that.

Minute after minute slunk by. Every once in a while, Zara would cry out a “Hello?” and sob when no one answered back. Did they really intend to leave her here over the entire night?

Zara had faced her fair shares of punishments, most of which included beatings that bruised her for days, and threats of abandonment. But this? This was a permanent seal of rejection. There was no way out, no coming back.

“Rowan?” she called again, pointlessly. “Ma?”

They would not come. Her mother would not save her. Rowan wouldn’t either, he wouldn’t bother risking himself trouble to let her out. In fact, he might be even be glad. No more worrying about some witch of a sister any longer. No more danger, no more risks. The family was free.

Just like Naz, Rowan probably never loved her as a sibling.

They were all afraid of her. And they all hated her for that fear.

Something scurried across her foot, squeaking. Zara jumped, hitting the wall and falling again among the debris with a cough.

“Oww!” The cut was in her knee this time.

No, it wasn’t even a cut. Something had stabbed her. Broken glass? Zara could feel it trapped in her left knee, and it was agonizing. Her arm throbbed, trickling wet. She was still bleeding from that earlier cut.

Her heart raced so hard, it would be a relief if it would just burst open already. The gentle squeaks of mice around her were not reassuring in the slightest. A buzz whizzed passed her ear twice, making her cringe. There were…things starting to crawl along her thighs and up her back.

“HELLLPPP! HELP!!” She banged on the wooden walls as hard as she could, but as old as this shed was, it seemed it would hold up against Zara’s assault just fine, as though it was taking a gleeful part in her punishment.

“HEL—” She shut her mouth and swiped violently across her lips and chin. She had felt something on her face. Was it a beetle? Or worse?

How she wished she could have a random outburst of power now, something that would help get her out of here. Could it be possible to blast down the entire shed at this rate?

She felt nothing. No power, no warmth of any sort. And the last thing Zara wanted to do was expand the size of a rat or a centipede or some other disgusting bug, but that was the only magic she had mistakenly demonstrated quite well tonight.

At this rate, even Mother Lilith and her Angels were in on the laughs. They had to be. Zara was a witch after all…

A useless, pathetic witch who couldn’t even use the magic she’d been born with.

Zara yelped, clutching and scratching her neck and chest as the painful pinches worsened into hot stinging. She screeched as the crawling sensation grew over her body. Her screams were muffled by the noise of buzzing. Stings covered her skin above and under her gown. She recognized this pain, but it was a thousand times more horrifying.

The centipedes were eating her alive.

Dizzy, Zara scrambled to get up, bumping and scratching herself on things she couldn’t see. She fell back again, hyperventilating, as the sharp object in her knee reminded her that it was still in there, oozing and draining her of blood.

The stinging only increased, and she grew weaker. She faintly felt a scurrying along her legs and in her thighs, but she was too disoriented to care anymore. It was cold, yet she was burning alive. And she couldn’t see.

She wept weakly. Her voice was a throaty rasp when she attempted, one more time, to call for help.

Behind closed eyelids was an outline of a figure with a feathery, black cloak. A shadow? Was this death approaching?

Her heart pounded in her ears. Her breath was shallow, and there was no sign that it would slow despite her feeling faint. She wished it would, there was no other way to numb the continuous stings. She yelled out incoherently—the shadow was approaching closer. It was in the shed with her and it was forming a face—one that had beady eyes and a cracked beak for a mouth.

Zara formed one final sigh before the shadow opened its beak and engulfed her in death.

Created with Sketch.

That tiny tremor wasn’t significant enough to alarm anyone back at the house, but The Sorcerer had felt it. It came from the grounds of an old, decrepit shed at the far end of the courtyard. Turning himself back into human form, he unlocked the latch and opened the door.

Zara’s limp figure fell out, along with a broken collection of rusted garden tools and glass. Enhanced night vision—borrowed from the raven—allowed him to see Zara’s red, swollen face and neck, still crawling with beetles, centipedes, and Dun flies—fat red-bellied pests that swarmed around feasting on whatever blood and feces they could find. She reeked of wet soil and mold.

Zara was, at least, not dying—but those long white centipedes and their poisonous bites have left her in this current, miserable state.

Two rats hurried out of the shed, disappearing into the weeds as The Sorcerer dragged her body out of the shed and onto a clearer path. There was something sticking out of her knee, seemed like a blade of some sort. Her eyes were swollen shut.

The Sorcerer stared back at the old shed. Just how long had that thing stood on this family’s property, disregarded for? It was ridiculous that it should still be here, gathering all these pests.

The Sorcerer scowled back at the house. It was a good distance away. The wind was harsh, lapping at his hair and cloak. Flakes of snow and ice pricked his face. He shivered violently. Pure laziness, these damn humans. Worse than cruel. The true monsters were the ones who liked locking their family members out to die in such hazardous conditions.

“Ma…Mm…” Zara mumbled something incoherent before falling silent again. It sounded like she was calling for her mother. The Sorcerer frowned. He hadn’t been prepared to doctor her tonight. He hadn’t predicted her being left out here at all. Some of the Dun flies had followed them from the shed to nibble at the crusting blood from her injuries.

A few centipede bites wouldn’t normally do much harm besides inflict pain and mild to moderate swelling, but when there was this much—and The Sorcerer could see some still crawling on her—then it was going to pose a major problem. He couldn’t let her die, the poor pitiful thing. He wouldn’t find any one like her for a really long time, and traveling the lands near and far in search of hidden mages had gotten tiresome a few decades ago.

Lucky for them both, The Sorcerer always carried a little healing pouch around with him—a pouch that shrunk down to his palm size when the drawstrings were closed. He liked to carry it in his pocket coats or cloaks for emergencies. With all his years of training, even he wasn’t immune to injury and disease. Unfortunately.

He took out one small pouch and pulled the strings apart. Immediately the bag grew, along with its contents of medicine, ointments, potions, and bandages. The Sorcerer took out a vial of enchanted leem, a medicine that, at its normal state, counteracted various insect poisons including the white centipede’s. Healing usually took a couple of days, as long as the person drank a vial twice every seven hours and made use of ointments for the skin damage. The Sorcerer’s enchanted medicine, however, worked instantly, at least for stopping the poison in the blood. But The Sorcerer didn’t have enough of it for this severe of a case.

It will have to do for now, until he could retrieve more.

He knelt down beside her and did his best to swat off the flies and and remaining centipedes before lifting her head off the ground, giving it a light shake.

“Can you hear me?” he said. “Wake up. Zara.”

She flinched at his voice, then let out a croaky whine. Her skin was hot, and no doubt she’d fallen into delirium. She whined lowly again, but at least she was awake.

“Take this.” He held the vial to her lips and poured as quickly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to find the damned bugs all over himself, too. “Your pain will go away. I promise you.”

She almost choked, and The Sorcerer forced himself to slow down. No need to let the medicine go to waste.

Her body quivered and he let her go, standing up and swiping at himself. Two tiny black beetles fell off his pants and disappeared in the wind, but that was the worst of it.

The swelling had already gone down a little, but that was the best one vial would do without any skin ointment to aid the healing process. The poison should cease harming her for the rest of the night.

He would have to leave her in the care of the very people who did this to her in the first place. How unfortunate. The Sorcerer wondered whether they would do anything at all. In this case, he would stay nearby and observe.

He formed back into the raven and flew to the house. The nearest upstairs window facing the courtyard was lit behind pale beige curtains—Rowan’s bedroom. He landed on the sill and began tapping the glass with his beak.

The Sorcerer heard muffled noises and loud thumps, but nobody came to the window. The Sorcerer tapped again.

“Wh—what?” Rowan’s fearful voice finally spoke up as he continued rapping away at the glass. Perhaps, The Sorcerer should have gone about this differently, because any sane person would be more than alarmed if some thing was knocking at their window at night. But there was no time to think, he had to signal the boy that his sister was in need of help.

“Ma! Ma!” Rowan yelled. The thumps moved further away and then they disappeared.

Shit.

Well, there wasn’t much to do now except wait for the mother to get involved as well. The Sorcerer should have known.

The thumps returned.

“Was it just the wind maybe—?” Leyli said.

“The wind wouldn’t be knocking on my window!”

Leyli sighed and pulled back the curtain. Her brows flew up when she saw the raven sitting on the sill.

“It’s just a bird, Rowan. Look.” She moved aside so her son could see. Her fatigued and puffy-eyed appearance did not go unnoticed by The Sorcerer.

“A crow?” Rowan said, surprised.

The Sorcerer cawed as loudly as he could, making them both jump. He continued cawing and flying in circles, landing back on the sill, even going as far as to use his wing to point in the direction where Zara lay, swollen and freezing, until Leyli opened the window to shoo him away. He flew back, and another strong gust of wind almost blew him off altogether.

“Oh my!” Leyli exclaimed. “The cold’s getting in now!”

The Sorcerer flew back to the window.

“Go away! Agh!” She flinched back when the raven’s wings beat against her arm and forced its way through. “What is wrong with this bird?! Rowan get your broom now. I am in no mood for this!” The poor woman was so stressed she was practically crying again. Rowan took out a straw broom from under his bed and brought it to her.

“He’s persistent,” Rowan remarked.

The Sorcerer stubbornly remained on the floor near the window, only to be swiped at with the broom.

Leyli shrieked when The Sorcerer smoothly maneuvered out of the way. He used this chance, now that they would hear him clearly, to mimic Zara’s name.

Rowan froze before his mother swiped again. “Wait, wait! Ma, stop!”

The raven cried out “Zara” once again, and this time, Leyli paused.

“Wh…”

“It speaks! It’s one of those talking birds! Did you hear it?” Rowan demanded, his eyes round and his breath heavy. “What that bird just said, did you hear it?”

Leyli’s mother just stared back at him, speechless.

“Is there something wrong?” Zahir said, walking into the room. “Why is there so much noise?” His eyes landed on the raven and his frown deepened. “What is that thing doing in here?”

The raven cried out Zara’s name twice more, invoking a stretch of silence among the family. The Sorcerer then wondered when that Noina woman would come in and join them. That would make for a very interesting display, he bet.

“It’s saying Zara!” Rowan shouted. “It’s saying Zara, isn’t it?”

The Sorcerer cawed his approval and fluttered back to the open window, pointing his wing in the direction where Zara was hopefully still alive.

Leyli looked to her husband, her fearful eyes watering once again, lost for words.

“Shut your mouth,” Zahir growled at the bird, his face red. “Shut it. You’re all hearing things.” He forcefully grabbed the broom out of Leyli’s hand, ignoring her gasped protest.

“Zahir wait!” she said. “Wait! Maybe this is a sign—”

He whacked the broom at her and she yelped.

“Ma!” Rowan exclaimed, horrified.

“I said shut your mouth!” Zahir bellowed at his cowering wife before he turned around and whipped the broom at the raven.

The Sorcerer flew out of the way, then at the man, aggressively trying to peck his balding head.

He let out an angry shout, fighting the bird off.

“Zara! Help!” the raven cried. “Zara! Help!”

“Oh Mother, help us all!” Leyli sobbed. “What is this? It’s black magic isn’t it? Is she doing black magic on us?”

“Help! Help!” The Sorcerer was really hoping that one of them would get the fucking clue. Every minute counted, and flapping his wings pecking and fighting with the bald twat was wasting time.

“Whatever it is, she needs help!” Rowan said.

Finally.

“No!” Zahir ground out. His head was sprinkled with little bleeding cuts inflicted by the beak attack. Picking up the broom he had dropped during the scuffle, he gave the raven one final swipe.

But The Sorcerer was already dashing at Rowan.

“Gah!” Rowan leaped back.

“Yes!” The Sorcerer squawked. His throat was going to rip apart. It was difficult for him to convey clear speech when in the raven’s body. He was out of practice. At least someone here was heeding his message. “Follow! Follow!”

The Sorcerer flew out the open door and down the hallway. He heard obeying footsteps pounding behind him.

“ROWAN!”

From the guest room, Noina walked out. She looked a bigger mess than Leyli, naturally, given the beetle trauma. Her cuts were cleaned, and the scar across her nose had been bandaged.

“What is—AHH!” She screamed, falling back as the raven whizzed by her like some mystical black phantom.

“Noina!” Zahir shouted when the giant thud of her body landed on the stone floor. “ROWAN, STOP WHERE YOU ARE!”

But Rowan kept running after the raven as it led him downstairs, past the kitchen, down the main hallway and to the parlor, where the sliding doors leading into the courtyard were shut. The raven landed on the floor in front of that door.

Rowan hesitated, glancing down at his long night shirt and loose, ankle length pants. “Shit, it’s going to be cold.”

“ROWAANNN!” Zahir’s roar was worse than a wild animal’s.

Rowan slid the door open. “He’s going to kill me,” he whimpered, running outside while The Sorcerer flew on, continuing to lead the boy to his sister.