The Witches of Corndale

By M Tash

Lucy Coleville's quiet and peaceful life in her old cottage comes to an end when a young girl, Evy Jones, shows up on her doorstep and greets her in a language that she hasn't heard for centuries. Evy, looking for answers about her mysterious past and unaware of her growing powers, will need Lucy’s help as she travels to hidden worlds, faces deadly beasts, and is pursued by the enigmatic Lady. It is a journey that will change their lives in ways they could never have imagined

• Language: English
• Publisher: M Tash
• Release date: May 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463692714

M Tash

Born in 1976, Murat Tash lives in Surrey, England. Currently he is working as an IT specialist and published his first book, the Witches of Corndale.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lucy Coleville, a tall, slim woman who looked to be in her late fifties, walked down the Windmill Road, slowly heading towards her old cottage outside the town. It was a mild and breezy Tuesday afternoon and she was coming back from Corndale High Street, where she had bought her favourite cheese, stone-baked bread, and fresh vegetables. Located near to the northeast coast, the town of Corndale did not look much different to any other small town in this part of the country: a butcher, a barber, a very old pub, a shop, a bank, a small school and a post office on the Corndale High Street made up the entire town centre. Except for the summer market on Fridays, the centre was a deserted place by day. However, at night, the town would come to life. Men and women of all ages would fill the High Street until midnight and spend most of the evening at the town’s only pub, The Corn 'n' Ale, which Mr and Mrs Goldtails had been running for many years. The topics of conversation in the pub would hardly change from day to day: the weather, followed by problems on the farms or the news of new-born animals. But there was one subject that excited the townspeople most of all: the stories about other people, especially those who were either wealthy, troublesome, or devious.

Ms Coleville was neither wealthy nor devious or troublesome; but still, she was known by every person in the town from the youngest to the eldest, though not by her real name. The Corndale people called her the White Witch, and as far as they could remember, that was the only name she had ever had. Nobody knew for sure whether she had ever been married or divorced, nor could they say if she had any living relatives. All they knew was that she lived in an old cottage just outside the town, on the Northern Hill; her windows remained sealed all the time, and odd-looking trees and plants could be seen growing behind her garden fence. Many Corndaleans still remembered that the last time some children had climbed over the fence for a closer look into the cottage, they had returned with big, itchy, pale-red patches on their skins which didn’t disappear for weeks.

In every household in Corndale, you could hear a different story being told about the White Witch. Sometimes she was the kidnapper of young, or she was hiding a great hoard of treasure under her bed. In other stories, she was cursed to live for eternity, while still others told that she could talk to the animals. It was true that Lucy Coleville had abnormally white skin, as if she did not have any blood running through her veins, and her long, straight hair looked incredibly shiny and black for someone of her age; but that was not all of it. She was never seen talking to anybody; she was never caught either smiling or looking sad, which added even more to the aura of mystery surrounding her. Some people in Corndale sincerely believed that she had a red, forked tongue inside her mouth, and that was the real reason she always kept it shut. Her eyes were set deep in her face and looked as fearless as a wolf’s, and no one dared to look into them directly, as they believed she could cast a spell on anyone who did.

As Lucy Coleville left the last block of houses behind, the children stopped playing and moved out of her way, and the women talked in whispers. Once she was out of the town, she left the main road and head onto a narrow path that passed between the harvested fields towards the Northern Hill, the biggest of four hills that encircled the town. Many small trees surrounded her cottage, and its conical shape rose amongst them like a dark-brown hat.

She paused and looked around to see if anybody were nearby, but it was only her shadow that stood by her side, which was getting taller every second as the sun made its descent behind the Western Hill. Far away, some farmers were still driving their huge tractors in the fields, but some others were walking back towards town. None of the farmers in Corndale bothered to drive their heavy farming machines back, but simply powered them off and left them in the fields until winter.

Lucy Coleville had a good idea of what the farmers would be talking about when they went out that evening. While she’d been doing her shopping, she had heard Henrietta Hordash, the sole member of staff at the Post Office, telling Deborah Littledove about a wedding proposal gone utterly wrong. Apparently, a young man called Charlie Fullberg had proposed to Bethany Burberry, the daughter of the Mayor, Mr Herald Burberry; but the poor chap had no idea she was preparing to break up with him. The news Mrs Hordash had brought to the market was travelling fast, and it had already been the only thing people were talking about in every corner of the town wherever Lucy passed.

As she resumed her walk through the small wood, Lucy picked a few berries and some wild herbs which had lasted the summer. By the time she reached the stream next to the cottage, the sun had long disappeared behind the Western Hill, letting the night fall slowly upon Corndale. She made a small pool by gathering some small stones, and put all the berries and leaves into the cold spring water. As she started washing them, some leaves stayed still, but some started to float around in the water, looking for a gap through which to escape. 

After she had sorted them all out, she looked towards the locked garden gate, and suddenly sensed something behind it. She stayed still, listening out for every sound, sniffing for every scent, looking into every corner in the long shadows of the trees. A few birds cried in the distance; the fully open yellow flowers of evening primroses filled the air with a mild scent, and nothing moved. She walked to the gate cautiously, unlocked it, and opened it wide.

At the end of the garden path that led to the cottage door sat a young girl, sixteen at most, with long auburn hair, red like the leaves of the Sourwood tree in autumn. Her face was pale, and her clothes were torn in many places. Her dark-purple eyes were watching Lucy calmly as she slowly closed the gate behind her. She didn't look like any of the children who lived in Corndale, or someone who was trying to break into the cottage. She didn't seem to be scared to see Lucy, either; in fact, she looked as if she had been waiting for her return.

The White Witch didn't move any closer and waited a moment by the garden gate, staring at the girl with interest. All the years she had lived in this little cottage, nothing like this had ever happened to her before. As much as she didn't like intruders, she was very curious to find out how the visitor had managed to let herself in. The young girl stood up. Clearly making an effort to stand up straight and keep eye contact, she greeted Lucy with both hands joined together in front of her face and said: Ale humr an sha de nyefer.

The White Witch was taken aback. It was not very usual – in fact, it never happened at all – to hear a girl as young as this one speaking Orcario, a language as old as the universe itself.

In response to the girl's greeting, Lucy put her right hand on her heart and bowed her head. A look of great relief spread across the young girl's face. The White Witch walked forward, opened the door to the cottage, and invited her guest inside with a polite hand gesture.

The house was pitch black. The girl lingered by the door until the shimmering light of a lantern in the far corner of the room faded the darkness slowly away and filled the air with the scent of burning oil. The place was practically empty but for a small kitchen unit by the wall, a rectangular table with some chairs around it, and a black wood stove in the middle of the room. The walls were a faint off-white colour and lots of little bags filled with dried herbs were nailed to them. Two doors leading to the other rooms in the cottage, one to the left and one to the right, were shut.

Lucy left her shopping bag on the table and set a fire in the stove using some dry wood. In this part of the country, a warm day in the autumn meant a chilly night afterwards, and not a single Corndalean would argue against that. The girl was still waiting hesitantly by the door, observing the room silently.

I suppose you will not stand there all night, while a chair is waiting for you here, said the White Witch.

Her voice nearly knocked the young girl over; its beauty and purity was beyond imagination. She grabbed the door handle tight so as not to lose her balance, and then straightened herself up again, looking a little embarrassed. If she had not already known who the older woman was, she might have thought her a siren as told in the ancient stories; one who had tired of luring the poor sailors into the freezing-cold waters of the North, and had somehow found a secret way to leave the sea behind and live on the land. The young girl could imagine the helplessness of the sailors; indeed, who could be so heartless as to ignore such a soft and mesmerising voice?

You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard, the girl said when she had regained her strength. I was warned about it, but its beauty is unimaginable.

Considering her age, the girl had a very calm and mature voice herself, Lucy thought. How did you know about that? she asked curiously.

The woman in my dreams told me. Her name is Lara, and I am Evelyn Jones. But you can call me Evy Jones or Evy. Her eyes were looking down.

I hope this Lara also told you that my voice is my curse on this planet, Lucy replied. You are fortunate that you are not an Earthwalker, otherwise you would be experiencing an agonising death at this very moment. She paused and glanced at Evy. Tell me, what else has Lara told you about me? she continued, a hint of a threatening tone in her beautiful voice now.

Well… the girl began hesitantly, she told me that there are not many who know who you really are, and that many of those who came to know, did not live long afterwards. In Corndale, the Earthwalkers call you the White Witch, and nobody knows your real name. By your real name, I don't mean Lucy Coleville. That is only a name you took in order to live on this planet. She stopped suddenly. I’ve said too much! she thought, biting her lower lip, but it was too late: she already had the full attention of the White Witch.

Go on! ordered Lucy. She wanted to hear everything this girl knew about her true identity, and it was too late for Evy Jones to stop now.

You once lived in a different planet called Iamos, in a faraway galaxy called Dracoda, Evy stammered. Your planet was a hundred times bigger than Earth, rich in every kind of mineral imaginable. Your race, the Iamons, was one of the most prosperous and intelligent across many galaxies. For many years, the Iamons lived in peace and ruled Dracoda. You were the last queen of the Iamons, the Empress of the Dracoda and the commander of the Dracodians - the most powerful armada in the universe. All over the galaxy, they called you 'E Ther Iaogen', which means 'The Great Iaogen'. That is all I know about you. Lara never told me how or when you came to Earth or why you left Dracoda.  

Silence took its turn. The White Witch said nothing, and nor did Evy, who wasn’t sure whether it was wise to reveal everything she knew.

The fire in the stove was blazing now, and there was a sound of wood crackling in the heat. A bucket full of water on the stove was warming up slowly, and a small hissing sound was getting louder every second. Evy’s eyes locked on to the flames dancing above the glowing embers of the fire, and her thoughts travelled back in time. She didn't have any idea why Lara had asked her to come and live with the White Witch, nor did she know what she was supposed to do next. All she wanted now was to have a warm bath – she hadn’t had one for weeks – and then go to sleep. She would be extremely pleased if she could also have some food, but spending another night hungry wouldn't bother her as much as another sleepless night.

I don’t think I recall anyone by the name of Lara, said the White Witch. Where is she?

Evy had been expecting this question. I don't know, she replied, her voice full of sorrow, eyes suddenly watery, and I never got the chance to meet her for real. But, if it weren’t for her, I would have no knowledge of Orcario, or the fact that I am not an Earthwalker. The last time she appeared to me, she asked me to come and find you.

And for what reason? Lucy asked in her beautiful voice.

Lara told me that you would know why, Evy replied. She didn’t have a chance to find out what Lara meant with that and by the expression on Lucy’s face she didn’t think Lucy had a clue about it either.

How long have you been travelling? asked the White Witch, thinking it might be best to leave questions about Lara for another time.

Months. The first half of the journey I caught a train to the North, and the rest I walked, Evy answered. The state of her badly worn-out shoes, her matted hair and her visible lack of strength seemed to prove every word she said. Her clothes were torn; there was dried blood on her coat and her legs, and several fresh scratches on her arms.  

Were you attacked? the White Witch asked, pointing to a gash on the arm of Evy’s coat. It looks a nasty cut!

I ran into some big, scary beasts on the way. I have no idea what they were, Evy replied.

The White Witch wasn't sure whether she had heard Evy right. In this part of the country, the cold air and the wolves were not the only hunters that came out at night; there were Oborks wandering the region too. In their last visits to the Earth, the Ibarkeans, the most famous merchants in the universe, had lost some of those bloodthirsty animals and left them behind. Most of them had been destroyed, but there were still a few roaming free somewhere in the North. If the beasts didn't come close to the towns, it was because they disliked the smoke from the chimneys and couldn't stand to be near it.

Are you telling me that you were attacked by Oborks, and you are still alive? asked the White Witch, astonished. 

If by Oborks you mean those ugly, hyena-looking creatures with huge black eyes; big horns on their heads; two enormous fangs; two strong legs; four long tentacles instead of arms; and skin as thick as armour... Well, yes, I met four of them a few hours ago, said Evy. After a short pause, she continued. I was just about to have a rest under a big oak tree when they found me. I can't remember how it happened, but when I woke up, I was sitting in front of your door with my clothes all torn and blood all over my hands, but no sign of the beasts.

Four Oborks? Lucy asked disbelievingly. The strongest warrior in the universe would struggle against only one of them, and you're telling me that you managed to run away from four! She didn't seem convinced by Evy’s tale.

I don't think I ran away, exactly, Evy replied timidly. She reached into her bag and took out several razor-sharp fangs. I found these in my bag, and I don't remember how they got there!

The White Witch came closer. In the girl’s hand were four long fangs; they were all identical, which meant they didn't belong to one, but four different beasts. She stared at the fangs in horror, as if they would come alive at any moment. She was confused and speechless. She looked back to the girl; Evy Jones stood as slim and weak as the first moment she’d set eyes on her. Perhaps there was someone helping her, someone unimaginably strong and skilful who could kill four Oborks at once and save the young girl's life. Would it be even possible? Lucy had never met nor heard of anybody with such strength, but if there were such a person, she would very much like to meet them, she thought to herself.

It was hard for Evy Jones to tell whether her uninvited presence in the cottage was welcomed by the White Witch, as her face showed hardly any emotion at all; but she sensed that the old woman was impressed and a little shocked at the same time by the tale of the Oborks. Perhaps they were a threat to her or to the small village down the hill.

Lucy asked no more questions of Evy, but went into the room on the right and came back with some clothes in her arms.

The bathroom is on the left, she said, pointing to the door on the far side of the room. I will help you to prepare the water. You can change into these clothes, which should be close to your size.

She left the clothes on the table. Evy offered to help with the hot water bucket, but the White Witch refused politely and lifted the bucket as if it were an empty bottle and poured the water into a tub in the bathroom. She then took some matches out of her pocket and lit a used candle that stood on a shelf. Hot steam was filling the small bathroom, and Evy couldn’t wait to jump into it.

Evy Jones enjoyed every drop of her hot bath and came out of the bathroom a while later with a satisfied smile on her face. Her red hair was still wet and shiny. The clothes the White Witch had laid out for her were nearly her size.

At the small table, she found a hot bowl of vegetable soup and some stone-baked bread waiting for her. Evy couldn’t recall when she had last had a warm meal – some time before she’d set off on her journey, weeks ago. The smell of the food was so good that she suddenly felt twice as hungry. She thanked the White Witch, and didn’t hesitate a second to plunge her spoon into it. The taste of the soup was even more delicious than its smell. The sweet, crisp mix of vegetables was perfectly blended with cream and ginger, spiced with pepper and chillies, and finally seasoned with olive oil and lemon juice. Watching Evy from a distance, Lucy Coleville did not need any words to know how pleased she was with the meal, as the satisfaction was written all over her face.

The White Witch left Evy to her dinner in peace. There was no clock on the walls, so Evy couldn't tell what time it was when she went to bed. A small mattress was placed on the floor in one corner of the bedroom, and a heavy duvet was folded on top of it. It wouldn't be the most comfortable bed in the world for some, but to Evy, it was pure luxury. She lay her head on the soft pillow, curled into her blanket, and within seconds was in a deep sleep. 

The White Witch watched Evy's peaceful and calm face half-in-dark for a while. Again, she tried to remember whether she’d ever come across someone called Lara before, but as hard as she thought, she couldn't find a match for the name. She walked back to the living room, leaving the bedroom door ajar, and fed the stove with more wood.

She sat by the stove and and pondered the events of the evening. Could this be the end of the long, solitary life she had led in this small place? She had never let anyone set foot inside her cottage before. She looked at her guest through the open door again and it was such a strange feeling to see another person there; someone who wasn't an Earthwalker, and who needed her help. Who is Lara? she wondered again. She had to find out more about her, and the longer Evy Jones stayed, the better chance she would have of doing so. There was enough space for two people in the cottage, and enough food and clothing. During her stay, perhaps she could help Evy with a few other things and teach her more about the life she had missed out on. Before anything else, she would show Evy the plants in the garden so that she would know how to handle and use them, and of course there would be a few other things to follow.

Lucy stayed almost an hour in front of the stove, watched the fire and imagining how life with Evy Jones was going to be. Whenever the fire went down, she fed it with more wood, until she felt sleep calling her. Having convinced herself thoroughly that she could fit Evy into her life in this small cottage, she went to bed with a smile on her lips. The second she closed her eyes, a disturbing, but very important question popped into her head like an unwanted guest late at night: How on Earth was she going to present Evy to Corndale?

Chapter 2

It was approaching noon. The sun had completed half of its journey between the Eastern and Western hills when Evy Jones opened her eyes. She lay in bed until she recalled her memory of the unfamiliar room around her. In the other corner, Lucy's bed was empty and neatly made, as if it had not been used the previous night at all. Apart from two beds, the room contained several shelves along the walls, full of old-looking books.

Evy got out of bed and went to the nearest shelf. Her eyes skimmed some of the titles, all of which were written in Orcario. Slowly, she moved from one shelf to another, and with every title she read, it became harder for her to breathe. She was standing in the middle of what must surely be the most precious library on Earth. A library, she could have hoped to see only in her dreams. There were books about history, like The War of Karzan, The History of Iamos I-XII, and The Fall of Androkarias; and about different civilisations, like Life on the Dark Moon of Tatooine and Journey to the Planet of Gorgon. She felt as if she had found the most sought-after treasure of all time, and considering the age and the variety of books on the shelves, that could be true indeed.

While she was still gaping at the books and moving from one title to another, her eyes settled on a book with a dark-blue cover. The title read: The Secret Teachings of the Herons. She reread the title to make sure she had read it correctly. Herons! If there was a race that Evy Jones was most curious about, it was the Herons without a doubt. She remembered how Lara had told her about them, and she had listened for hours and hours. The Herons were known as one of the most advanced and complex species in the universe, who could live as long as hundreds of thousands of years thanks to their ability to adjust to any environment and regenerate their bodies. In Dracoda, the common belief was that the Herons were a myth, and only a few believed in their existence. Lara claimed that she had once met one of them, a nice gentleman who had been living on Earth since the times of the Kingdom of Kush, which would make him as old as the Great Pyramids. His appearance was no different than that of any other man, except that he was uncommonly handsome, and despite Evy's best efforts, she hadn’t been able to persuade Lara to reveal anything more about him. There were many other civilisations and planets Lara had told her about; some of these stories she would listen to with excitement, and at other times she would lose all interest. Of course, none of these extra-terrestrial races or planets were known to any living human on Earth, and occasionally Evy couldn’t help wondering if Lara was mixing a bit of fiction into it. Perhaps the reason she wanted me to come here is to prove that everything she told me was true, she said herself. If that was all it was, then she had made her point very well, thought Evy.

Her fingers gently touched the old cover of the book. It wasn't paper as she knew it; none of the books in the room were made of Earth paper, but of Salikren sheets, a glass-like material which couldn't be damaged by fire, water or light. It was thinner and a lot lighter than paper, and the letters were embedded, rather than written, on the sheets. Unlike the paper Earthwalkers used, the Salikren sheets could not contain written words, but also play events in front of the reader’s eyes in the form of moving holograms using magnetic Salikren dust. Evy had seen many of these holographic tales in her dreams, but never in real life. She felt a strong temptation to pull the book from the shelf and start reading, but it would not be right to do without asking the White Witch first. Once she had her host’s permission, she would want to read all of them not once, but twice. Even the thought of it was enough to fill her heart with excitement. There was no time to waste, she thought. With one last look at the library, she quickly made her bed, folded the blanket neatly, and went into the living room. The room seemed no different than the night before, except that the heavy scent of burning oil had been replaced by fresh air. There was no sign of the White Witch, but Evy noticed that breakfast had been left on the table for her.

A bit later on, when the White Witch entered the room, Evy had already finished her breakfast, washed the dishes and arranged them neatly in the small cupboard. It didn't go unnoticed by her host, who glanced at the tidy kitchen and smiled at Evy. After a few seconds of awkward silence, it was Evy who spoke first.

Thank you for the breakfast. I am not usually a cheese eater, but the one I had this morning was delicious, she said. If the orphanage had been useful for one thing, it had been to teach her good manners; but she wasn't trying to be polite this time, as it was indeed the best cheese she had ever tasted.

It is called Corncheddar, only produced here in Corndale, and it is one of the few things I like the most about this town, answered the White Witch. She was thinking at the same time that it might be the right moment to discuss how they were going to introduce Evy to the Corndaleans without raising too much suspicion and curiosity. Evy didn't know it yet, but she was about to become the most talked-about person in Corndale. People would start telling all sort of stories about her from the first moment they set eyes on her; Corndaleans had always prided themselves on telling stories. She would be known throughout the village as the Red Witch. Just as Lucy’s abnormally white skin had earned her a name, so the beautiful red colour of Evy’s hair would do the same for her. Unknown to the town people yet, Corndale was about to have one of the most exciting winters anyone could remember, as there were going to be so many new stories to be told during the long nights about the two of them: the Witches of Corndale.

We need to talk about your stay here, Lucy said as she took a seat at the table, deciding that it would be best to get straight to the point. Evy took another chair and sat down opposite her, feeling a bit nervous.

I have lived in this small cottage for many long years, and I am quite sure it is capable of accommodating another person, Lucy began. But my biggest worry is the Earthwalkers - I mean, people, living in the town. Her voice, as beautiful as ever, sounded worried. I have been thinking about it, and the only way we can make your stay easy here is to convince the people in the town that you are related to me.

Evy wondered how exactly a black-haired woman and a red-haired girl could look as if they were related, but still, she nodded her head to hear more of what the White Witch had to say.

As you know, I cannot speak to Earthwalkers, so they are used to me walking around without saying a single word, the White Witch continued. My greatest concern is that if you should ever talk to them, they will want to know more about us, things that I would rather keep secret. Therefore, I think it is better if you don't speak to them at all; pay no attention to anybody or anything, and do not show any sympathy or interest in their affairs. Doing so has allowed me to live a peaceful life among them without any problems for many years.

What Evy gathered from this speech was that the White Witch wanted the Corndale people to see Evy in the same way as they saw her, so that they would always keep their distance.

I am very grateful that you are letting me stay here with you, and I promise you will not regret it, Great Iaogen, Evy replied quickly. I am well trained in housework, and I can be a great help with things here. Her voice was filled with excitement, and her eyes were shining bright. About the Earthwalkers, I don't think staying quiet will be a problem for me at all. Even if you would have me stay indoors all the time, I would gladly accept it.

Indeed, Evy would have been happy to stay in the cottage all day and all night long, reading her books, cooking, cleaning and taking care of the strange-looking garden plants. Outside, amongst Earthwalkers - they are called Earthwalkers, not people, Lara used to say - all she felt was a sense of alienation. In the orphanage, she had lived like a robot; obeyed the rules; attended every breakfast, lunch and dinner on time; kept her room tidy; never forgot her homework; simply did whatever she was supposed to do. But, all the while, she dreamed of a life somewhere else; it might be far away, it might be cold, it might be very small, but it would be a place where she could feel that she belonged. This cottage had everything she wanted, and she felt that there could be no other place she would rather be anymore.

The White Witch seemed pleased with her answer. In the next few days, we will need to do a lot of practice so that you can learn to hide all your emotions and shut yourself off when you are outside, she said. You will need a dress to go with your new image, too. People know that we can hear and understand them, so they won't be talking about us while we are near them; but as soon as we turn our backs, they will start whispering. After a few weeks I am sure their curiosity will calm down, and we will both feel more comfortable. She was glad to have had this conversation with Evy, but what made her even happier was seeing Evy excited about living with her.

One last thing Evy, she said before letting her go. Please call me Lucy.

Two days passed since their little chat, but Evy's training was nowhere near complete. In fact, it took more than two weeks before she managed to control her facial expressions and shut out the sound reaching her ears. Finally, the White Witch told her that she was ready to go out. Evy's eyes stared into the void, her face as blank as a mannequin’s; not a single tiny muscle moved. With her red hair and pale, marble-cold face, she resembled a young princess of the Roman Empire Lucy had once seen in the Colosseum. She couldn’t recall the name of the princess but she remembered her vividly sitting in the podium amongst the most important people of the Rome all day long without moving a muscle. As pleased as she was to see Evy Jones managing to block out all outside interference with the stone-cold expression on her face, it made her equally nervous. What she was afraid of was that Evy might make a habit of it, keeping her face expressionless all the time. Needless to say, it was always a big relief for Lucy to see her student very cheerful and alive at the end of each training session.

With Evy's presence in the cottage, the life the White Witch was used to had changed significantly. The evenings had never been so lively and full of chat, as far as she remembered. Evy had always something to ask about and never seemed to tire of reading. In no time at all, she had already finished reading several books from the White Witch's unique library, which inevitably raised more questions to be answered. Such inquisitiveness could have made someone very tired and bored in a couple of days, but not Lucy Coleville. For the first time in a very long time, she was having two-way conversations, and she couldn't deny that her mood and her outlook on life had grown lighter in these last few weeks.

If one thing delayed their plans, it was Evy’s training, which was progressing much more slowly than the White Witch had anticipated. However, this turned out to be something good, as during the time they spent together, she got to know Evy a lot better.

One thing Evy Jones liked more than anything was to learn new things. Other than reading the books from the library, she learned to cook many of the White Witch's recipes, and started to take care of the plants in the garden, which wasn't an easy business. Pruning the little Staracoleds was a particular challenge, as the small cactus-looking plants moved around very quickly and would try to bite back whenever someone came near; but that didn’t bother Evy at all. She seemed to have an endless supply of energy and welcomed any challenges.

There wasn’t many names came forward in Evy’s life in the orphanage but Lara. From the first day she met Evy, the White Witch had never stopped wondering about this mysterious name, but didn't want to push her luck too hard. She was hoping one day the opportunity would present itself for Evy to go into detail about Lara. However, what the White Witch was about to discover was utterly unexpected and had nothing to do with Lara.

It was the night before they planned to visit the town. Ready for the next day, both were sat around the wood stove enjoying a hot drink while Evy read The Secret Teachings of the Herons. As she turned the pages, she was determined not to miss any helpful demonstrations, and played them each a few times. She was fascinated by the tiny dust particles rising on the page, taking various colourful forms – planets, spaceships and all sorts of different creatures – and then replaying the story as if it were happening for real in front of her eyes. After watching another exciting display, she closed the book. Seeing the puzzled look on her face, the White Witch anticipated that Evy was ready with a question for her.

Lucy, Evy said in a warm voice, can I ask if you have ever met any Herons?

I have known a few, Lucy replied, knowing that this answer would only lead to more questions.

I thought you would have; but how did you know they were Herons? I can't find anything in the book about how to identify them. Her face was expectant, impatiently waiting for the White Witch's answer.

The book doesn't say it because there is no way to identify them. That is the secret to their survival, Lucy answered and before Evy could raise the question she added. However, there is a way to get them to reveal themselves, and only certain people know how to do it.

Evy's dark-purple eyes suddenly filled with excitement, and now appeared more red than purple. At first, the White Witch thought it was a trick of the lantern's shivering light, so she changed her position to have another look at them; but the pair of red eyes still shone brightly. Strange, she thought to herself. Very strange. The White Witch had always sensed that there was something extraordinary and special about her guest; something unique, precious and very powerful lying in the deep and waiting to be discovered. But it had never been evident up to that moment. Evy was different; it wasn't easy to describe, but Lucy could feel it like the air she was breathing or the warmth of the drink in her hands. Even though she had seen only a small glimpse of it, she somehow knew that she had never met something this powerful before. Who are you, Evy Jones? she wanted to ask, but kept her silence instead.

Amongst the civilisations around the universe, there was only one small planet whose inhabitants, the White Witch knew, had a red eye colour; a planet that had been destroyed when a black hole had sucked in the entire galaxy millions of years ago, as old Orcario records confirmed. The planet was called Titan, and its Orcario name translated as the Planet of the Red Eyes. Sadly, there were not many surviving written records about the life of the Titans, or their history, but for a very famous quote: Only a Titan can save us. It was believed that Cenia, the rebel queen of the planet Sarepur, had uttered this phrase just before the most brutal emperor in the history of the universe, Hotaz of the Kuhota, had launched an attack on Sarepur, destroying most of the planet and ending the rebellion. Cenia fought valiantly but it was a war she could not win. She was captured and killed in the most brutal way by the Kuhotans – but as the countless heroes before her, neither Cenia’s bravery nor her words were forgotten. Other than that, nobody really knew anything about them – at least, as far as the White Witch knew. She threw a quick look at Evy and wondered if it could really be possible that Evy Jones was one of the descendants of Titans who had survived extinction.

So, how do you get a Heron to reveal themselves? asked Evy softly, pulling the White Witch out of her thoughts.

The White Witch took a deep breath and said, I can tell you; but you must take a special oath.

What kind of oath? asked Evy hesitantly. She recalled that in one of Lara's stories, an old king had defeated his enemy simply by making him take an oath which caused his death as soon as he broke it.

It is called the Fool's Oath, and it is known as such because only a fool would take such an oath, the White Witch replied.

The Fool's Oath? I’ve never heard of it before. Is it…dangerous? Evy asked. She sounded cautious.

It is indeed! Not only for you, but for others too! the White Witch said.

How can it be dangerous for other people if I’m the one taking the oath? asked Evy, confused.

Let me explain, Lucy said, "The oath says:

"By blood I receive,

By tear I give.

Two vows, two shall live,

No vow, two shall die.

You cannot tell this secret to someone without the other person taking the oath, and you repeating it. Otherwise, both of you will die: ‘No vow, two shall die'. Once the secret is told, the one who tells it loses it forever.

So, if I take the oath, you will lose it forever, said Evy disappointed. She longed to know the secret, but she hadn’t realised it would mean such a great sacrifice for the White Witch.

If anything, I think I have known more Herons than I wanted to, and I have strong bonds with them. Maybe it is time for me to pass on the secret before I kill somebody by mistake, answered the White Witch with a shy smile. The more important question is whether you are ready to take the oath or not. It is not a light secret to carry with you. I shall warn you! As soon as you take the oath, you will be a slave to this secret, and it could try to tempt you into revealing it.

Oh yes, absolutely, I’m ready, Evy said determinedly. The White Witch refilled her mug with tea and then sat down opposite Evy again. The colour of the girl’s eyes had changed back to purple, and the White Witch wondered if Evy was aware of the change at all.

Very well, she said. We shall need a tear from me and a small drop of blood from you first.

Evy looked around for a needle. By the time she had sat back down at the table, Lucy was holding a teardrop on a small spoon. Evy hesitated a moment, and then with a small, swift