A Last Hope

Created Sep 27, 1999 | Updated Feb 17, 2002

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John Healey (10g)
A Last Hope

Michael sat down slowly in his chair. "It’s too soon," he said.
 "But the time is close," said the cat. "I can feel it."
 "She’s too young."
 "When she finds the necklace, she’ll be ready."

The castle stood dark and forbidding on top of the hill. It hadn’t been approached for as long as Karen could remember. Rumours about ghosts and witches that lived there kept the locals away.
 Karen crouched in front of the hole in the side of the castle and peered in. The darkness she saw beyond the thin light that shone through the hole was solid, almost tangible. Holding a lighted torch before her, she stepped inside.
 She carefully continued into the darkness, parting it a little with the light from her torch. She knew for certain that no one had set foot in the castle for twelve years, and she could see why. While she knew that the fear felt by the locals was only superstition, you couldn’t help imagining what was lived within the walls.
 The castle had always been a place of mystery and fear for her and the other children in the village, a fact that parents would use to their advantage, telling them that if they weren’t good, a monster would come down from the castle and eat them. The children themselves made up stories and games based on the castle and often dared their friends to go in it.
 Until now, nobody had gone through with such a dare.
 A wall blocked Karen’s progress. She was about to turn back when she noticed foot holds in the wall. She shone the torch upwards, but was unable to see the top. She looked to the wall and then back at the torch, knowing that she couldn’t climb the wall and carry the torch. She stood, undecided, and then extinguished the torch and, groping for the footholds began to climb.
 The top was closer than she imagined, and she heaved herself over the wall onto a cold stone floor. When she’d rested, she looked around.
 The room she was in was ruined; burned and scorched, the feeble light that came in through the window revealed the remains of furniture and some half destroyed tapestries hanging form the wall. But it was huge! Staring down what was left of a very long table, Karen guessed that the room was one of the biggest in the castle. Even as wrecked as it was the room still managed to give a feeling of the grandness it had once possessed.
 Karen stood there for a moment, taking all this in, before bringing herself back to the present. She began to explore, digging glancing around the floor and on the walls for something small she could take back with her to prove that she had been in the castle.
 She reached the far wall, and was about to turn back, but stopped herself. Buried in a pile of wood near her something was glinting. She knelt next to the pile and started to dig her way through it, her hands finally closing on the object. Triumphantly, she pulled the object out from the pile and examined it in the light.
 It was a necklace. A small oval stone hung from a gold chain. It was perfect proof.
 She tried it on, and stood up.

The cat leapt up with excitement and turned to Michael.
 "She’s found it!"
 Michael stood and started of the door. "You’re sure? Your not mistaken?"
 Annoyance entered the cat’s voice "Of course I’m not. Lets go."

A man walked straight in front of Karen, continuing as if he hadn’t noticed her.
 The room was full of people, talking and arguing. Above their shouting voices, screams could be heard from outside, mingled with the sound of a battle in full swing.
 Karen looked at the tapestry that hung over where she had stood. Instead of being half burned away, it was whole. The pile of wood in front of her was now an ornate chair. The cobwebs that had hung in the corner had vanished. She turned around to survey the other decorations in the room, but the crowd of people gathered at the other end of the room caught her attention.
 There were now only five of them, still arguing. Karen moved closer. When her presence provoked no response, she stepped right next to one, looked at his face, and jumped back.
 It was her father.
 He looked younger, but there was no mistaking that he was her father. He was deeply involved with the argument. In his arms he held a baby.
 To his left stood the man he was arguing with. He seemed a lot older than Michael, and in charge.
 One of the three women present butted in. "The situation’s getting worse. There are too many of them to fight."
 The old man turned to her. "Then perhaps you can convince Michael that this is the only way."
 Michael glared at him. "You can’t guarantee that we won’t be in danger."
 The old man sighed. "No," he conceded, "I can’t. But the sooner we act, the less chance that you’ll be discovered. And if we don’t act soon, everyone here will die. If this is to work at all, we need someone in the future, another witch, who can perform the other half of the spell and bring us out of time travel. No one will suspect your daughter of being a witch; a child won’t be considered a threat."
 Another of the women turned to Michael. "Even if you do meet danger, it will be safer than staying here with Karen."
 The anger in Michael’s eyes softened. "You want me to go, don’t you?"
 She nodded. "To where it’s safe."
 "How long will we wait?" asked Michael, still uncertain.
 The woman shook her head. "I can’t say. When Karen finds the necklace, she’ll discover what has happened; the rest will be down to her."
 Michael stepped forward and embraced the woman with one arm, the other still clutching the child. "Alright, I’ll go," he said, stepping back.
 The woman half closed her eyes, mumbling. She opened them again. "It is done."
 Michael smiled. "Goodbye," he said, and stepped forward, disappearing into the air in front of him."
 The woman’s smile faded, and a look of sorrow settled on her face. The old man placed an arm around her. "Don’t worry," he said. "From your point of view, it will only be a couple of hours before you see him again."
 Suddenly his seriousness returned. "Come," he commanded, "we must get ready."

 The image faded from Karen’s eyes. She was still knelt down in front of the pile of wood, the necklace still hanging from her neck. She glanced back up at the tapestry – half burnt, as it had been before. The cobwebs were back in the corner.
 On an impulse, she tore the necklace from her throat and threw it to the floor, sending it back under the wood.
 "That night, thousands of the last surviving witches were killed by humans."
 Karen whirled round to face the voice. Stood before the window, Michael appeared to be studying her intently. Beside him, the cat spoke. "The survivors, barely a few hundred, began time travel." He paused. "It’s up to you to complete the spell."
 Karen looked from the cat to the necklace, and then to Michael. "The cat talks," she said, as some of what she’d seen began to sink in.
 Michael nodded. "You are the last witch. This is your familiar."
 The cat walked to sit in front of her, and held out a paw. "How do you do?"
 Karen just stared, her mind blank. Then a question emerged from the back of her mind. "What just happened?"
 "You saw an illusion," explained Michael. "The whole of what you saw was what happened the night of the Last Battle. It all happened in your head."
 "The survivors exist in a kind of statis," the cat said. "Time for them ceased to continue. When you complete the spell, the past twelve years will be a blink of an eye to them."
 This sunk in. "So," said Karen slowly, "twelve years ago, some witches jumped forward in time, and left me to sort things out for their arrival."
 Michael nodded. "It’s a little hard to believe, I know…"
 "So why can’t you do it?"
 Michael frowned. "What?"
 "Why can’t you finish the spell for them? You’re my father, you should be able to do it."
 "He’s a mortal," said the cat. "Your powers come from your mother."
 "The spell can only be completed by you," said Michael.
 "How?"
 Michael reached inside his jacket, producing a small book. "All your mothers spells," he said, handing it to her. "I’m sure it’s in there somewhere. She wanted you to have it."
 Karen turned the book over in her hands, looking at it. She placed a hand on the clasp that held it shut, but hesitated. "I’m not sure…"
 "You don’t have to now," said Michael. "It’ll make no difference to them."
 Karen continued to examine the book. Finally, she to the wall she’d climbed. "I’m sorry, I need to think." She disappeared down the wall before Michael could say a word. He started after her.
 "Let her go," said the cat. "She’s right; she needs to think."
 Michael paused, then turned back to the cat. "I know," he said. "But…it’s been so long since I saw her mother…"
 "Thinking of yourself again," the cat admonished. It vanished into the wood pile, returning with the necklace. It dropped it at Michael’s feet. "Give this to her when you talk later."
 Michael reached down and picked up the necklace. "Thanks." He looked at the way Karen had gone. "Do you think she’ll do it?"
 "I don’t know," replied the cat. "Perhaps. In the future."
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