Chapter 5 - the crystal cage

“You have such a weird house!” Thomas grumbled, walking around Xanthe’s family home for the first time. “Look at all this creepy stuff!” he criticised, pointing at the pictures on the wall and ornaments on display. He’d been like this ever since she’d picked him up. His shirt was practically painted on with the strain of his massive muscles, and the building frustration in Thomas’ voice suggested that another aggressive, witch-hunter outburst was imminent. Anything Xanthe said now could ignite him.

“If you think this is weird, you should check out the basement!” Xanthe smiled, trying to promote intrigue. But all she got in return was a disinterested huff. “Come on!” she smiled, trying to stay positive and calm. “It’ll just take a minute!”

Scowling, Thomas followed Xanthe down the stairs. “What’s so special about down here?” he asked, wandering around, throwing his arms about; showing that he didn’t give a care in the world. “There’s not even a window.”

Xanthe watched, her heart beating furiously. All across the floor were heavy white crystals and, if Thomas had bothered to look up at the ceiling, he would have seen a pattern of symbols and markings that she’d painted the day before. Any one of those things could have given her away if Thomas noticed them too early. “Check out the little bathroom at the back!” she smiled encouragingly.

One step, then two and Xanthe breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as Thomas moved beyond the crystal line and into the space. The boy huffed again and shook his head at the pathetic little bathroom; striding back over to leave. However, just as he reached the crystal line this time, his face hit an invisible wall and he grabbed at his nose in pain. “What the fuck?” he shouted.

Thomas’ hands then felt in front of him, finding that he could not pass through the space before him.

“What is this?” the witch-hunter growled.

“A force field,” Xanthe explained. She saw the realisation coming back into Thomas’ eyes and she spared him the effort of thinking for himself. “Yes,” she nodded. “My family are from a line of witches. And you…” she pointed accusingly, “…are not going to get to hurt any one of us!”