Fly Me Away

All thought was drowned out by the sound of my screaming. The side of Jackson’s car was narrowly escaping certain death by tree trunk as we hurtled though the woods at an alarming pace. I could faintly hear him shushing me, which was infuriating, but not very high up on my list of importance. In my head, he was smiling like an idiot and swinging the steering wheel from left to right.

“JACKSON!” I screeched, gripping the car arm rests with all my might. It was then that I noticed his arm perched in front of my torso like a safety rail, stopping me from being ejected through the windscreen…. or at least getting whiplash from the seat belt.

As if it had all never happened, which was completely unbelievable in my eyes, Jackson brought the car to a halt and parked it somewhere in the depth of the woods, right underneath a crowd of trees that had collapsed onto each other.

My breathing came in hitches as I tried to force air into my already full lungs. The arm rests could have been torn off for all I cared, and his arm remained in front of my chest, despite the ride being over.

“Sorry about that,” Jackson chimed, pulling back his arm and casually undoing both of our seat belts with his free hand.

My mouth hung open while I watched him, “Jackson what—why didn’t you?—”

“Just making sure you were awake.” He grinned and proceeded to exit the car and make his way to my side.

I couldn’t believe it; I stared at him incredulously, waiting for his real answer. He just smiled. I threw my arms in the air, “Oh good grief!” He decided [i/]now was the time to become a raging daredevil and veer off into the forest?!

I was still stiff with shock when he grabbed my hands and pulled me out of the car. My feet tripped clumsily over the tree roots, but he made up for my lack of balance. It was odd that his car received no damage in the incident, apart from dirty wheels and a few leaves scattered on the windscreen.

I scanned the area and found nothing of interest, just woodland, slightly damp and smelling of dirt and leaves. Jackson looked calm, despite what had just happened. My hands were still bloody trembling.

“I just wanted to get us in close,” Jackson added quickly, still supporting me with his arm, “You won’t have to do much walking, we’re almost there.”

I hobbled along to try and keep pace with him, “Almost where?”

“Her house.”

“Her as in….?”

He sighed as if he was expecting an overreaction from me, “The witch.”

He was getting one.

“WHAT THE…?! A freaking witch? Like an evil, broomstick riding, wicked witch?!”

“Shhh,” he held me by the shoulder and placed a hand lightly over my mouth, then continued walking. I struggled for a bit, outraged at the disrespect I was receiving, before giving up and deciding to comply. Once again, it was the trust I had in him that was my downfall. He didn’t seem worried about the wicked witch…maybe it wasn’t wicked at all?

After a few minutes his hand dropped and we continued to walk in silence. To my utter distain, the air continued to get tenser the further we walked. I couldn’t pinpoint the moment when Jackson stopped looking so relaxed, it happened gradually, but every time I looked over it became clearer.

To me, we were walking though any plain old woodland near my town, we could have been anywhere, but Jackson had his eyes fixed on something in the distance. At first glance, there was absolutely nothing, but as we drew closer, it appeared. I squinted to see it.

There was barely a clearing up ahead, just enough room for a small cottage to be nestled in amongst the trees. The closer we got, the more nervous I became. It looked like something from a fairytale, but not in a good way; it could have been the villain’s house. To tell you it was dirty was an understatement – Off-white walls with a black roof and an old Bora ridden wood door. The windows were blocked and there was a sign near the doorknob that simply said ‘Go away’. There was nothing else to the place.

“You can’t speak when we are inside Maggie,” he whispered into my ear, “not even a word….and actually listen to me this time.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, keeping my eyes fixated on the cottage in front of us.

He continued, “Witches are not good people, no matter what she does. They have a natural vendetta against, well, against everything really, though they usually don’t play on it. They prefer to simply go about their business and not get in the way.”

I needed to ask my questions before I wasn’t aloud too, “Why a witch? How can she help?”

Jackson stopped walking, bringing me to a halt too. We weren’t two meters from the front door now and my heartbeat was racing. “I’ve had a run in with her before, when I first arrived,” he explained, “I was scoping out the area and I found her little house out here. She is very old and harmless, but useful to an extent…. I think. We’ll soon find out…”

I gasped loudly as Jackson and I closed the gap between us and the house in half a second. The door was flung open by some ungodly force and I distinctly heard the sound of wood being snapped.

He kicked the door in didn’t he?

All I could see was dust. There was a piercing screech that bounced around the walls of the cottage, which I was suddenly inside. It happened far too quickly, I felt a bit sick, but that could have been nerves.

“Argh you disgusting Angel! Barging into my house like you own the world!”

That was the witch? Her voice was croaky and high pitched – extremely unpleasant to the ear.

“Get out of here I have nothing of use to your kind!”

I could hear her complaining but not see her.

“Who…how many of you are there?! I’m not bothering anyone out here!!”

As the dust began to settle, I could vaguely make out shapes of benches and a stove. There was a lot of clutter around. Actually, the whole place was just…stuff. Bits and pieces everywhere. How on earth could somebody live here?

The witch was… well, a witch. Tall with piles of knotted black hair on her head and a billowy purple dress that looked like a beaten up Victorian gown. Jackson was right, she did look old. Her collar bones stuck our under sagging skin and she was as brittle as glass. It almost seemed like she could have been beautiful once upon a time. Her eyes were a striking deep purple as they narrowed and glared angrily at Jackson.

He was standing further away that I would have liked, but I could see it was for a reason. Not showing any weakness or something like that. I admired his angelic calm; the way his expression oozed dominance and confidence.

“Pippani Gallingway,” Jackson jumped straight to the point, his voice was more powerful than I was used to, “I want you to tell me where this girl is.”

She scoffed, and let out a loud, screeching laugh, “not a chance! There is nothing you can do that would make me... Oh….my….”

My heart froze – she was looking at me. Everything about her changed at that moment. Her eyes softened and her mouth hung open limply while she looked me up and down, over and over again. The silence was squeezing at my insides. I wanted to hide behind something.

The witch took a weak step forwards and pointed a long, gangly finger at me. My heart thundered against my rib cage, why was she pointing at me? Why was she looking at me like that?

“…I…I…this girl…” she breathed softly, her elbow beginning to wobble.

I risked a sideways glance at Jackson, just to check if this was part of the plan. He was collected, just as he always was, but there was a tiny hint of surprise in his eyes. His eyebrows were raised, just the smallest amount. Only I would catch it.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

“Listen to me,” Jackson interrupted coolly, ignoring her, “Locate Pippani, and then we can talk.”

It appeared as if the witch had become completely oblivious to Jackson's presence. The words went in one ear and straight out the other. Who was I to her? I looked up at Jackson again for reassurance, wondering if he was seeing the same thing I was, but he was too busy staring her down now.

The witches hand fell to her side and she swallowed, still looking like a frightened bird, “… give…give me something of hers….”

Something of mine??

Her eyes never left my face and I squirmed under her gaze. The witch quickly glanced at Jackson, but barely took any notice. She held out a boney, frail hand towards him and wiggled her fingers, wanting something.

Jackson stepped forward, pushing me behind him in the process, then dropped something in her hand. A gold chain; that definitely wasn’t mine, it was Pips – where did he get that?

“Pippani…Lynn…Pip Gallingway….” She hummed, closing her long fingers around the gold and letting a small locket slip between them, “She is alive…this is the information you want Angel?”

"No,” Jackson bellowed, “Locate her. Where is she?”

The Witch shook, her voice was so much quieter now, “….over a mountain, though a…. no not over, before, just before…. Grey water…. Interesting sounds fill this air…. This girl is safe. She understands the circumstances. She is waiting for you to find her.”

Anticipation bubbled in my stomach like a volcano. Pip was alive, thank God; The huge weight was immediately lifted off me shoulder. The fact that this information came out of a witches mouth meant nothing to me. I knew she was right.

The witch brought the chain up to her nose and inhaled deeply, “She is with the forest nymphs and one, no…. Two divine beings.”

Angels. Pip was with nymphs and Angels? Why…?

…She understood the circumstances. She knew what was happening to me? Is that what the witch meant?

Suddenly, a bizarre feeling of cold hit my ankles as if two icy hands were grabbing them. I gasped loudly, slamming my hands over my heart with fright.

"Put that down!” he demanded, lifting his hand palm first in the woman’s direction.

She hesitated, scrunching up her face a him, then glancing at me frantically for a moment. There was a piece of wood in her hand which she gripped relentlessly by her hip, half hidden behind her dress. The witch had a wand – how cliché. What on earth was she trying to do with it? I looked down, but couldn’t see any hands around my ankles…

“I need to get her away from you!” she hissed to Jackson, then turned back to me, her face pleading now, “Please dear, let me help you. Come with me, I’ll get you back—”

She froze mid-sentence, then complied with Jackson’s demands. The fickle piece of dark wood between her fingers fell to the floor with a clatter. Jackson lowered his hand and she became animated again. Wow, I didn’t know he could do that…?

“You won’t get away with something like this Angel. He’ll come for her… He’s coming for her right now!”

I caught his eyebrows rise with surprise again. Whatever she was talking about was news to him too. His eyebrows quickly furrowed, “How long?”

Her mouth snapped shut and she shook her head menacingly.

What happened next shocked the room.

I gasped loudly – Jackson's arm was like a steel bar around my neck. He had me in a head lock. My hands automatically grabbed hold of his forearm, instinctively trying to pry it away from my throat.

What…what was going on?!?

“Do I need to ask you again?” Jackson growled, flexing his arm tighter and making me squeak in the process.

“Stop! I’ll do what you want!!!” The witch hollered, scampering over to the corner of the room while Jackson watched patiently.

What the hell was he doing?? This wasn’t real was it? I swallowed and tested out my ability to breathe…all clear. He wasn’t hurting me, just….scaring me? No, scaring her.

She pulled out a book from the clutter and brushed an appalling amount of dust from the top of it. Her feet trudged towards the center of the room, sweeping her big dress along the ground like a broom. She shot Jackson one last loathing look before opening the book to no page in particular, bringing her face unnaturally close to the pages.

Had she not been so engrossed in what she was doing, she would have caught Jackson’s hand curl around and stroke the side of my neck reassuringly. I could feel him breath softly into my hair, and a soothing wave of relaxation followed. Relief came out of me in the form of a soft purr, despite the circumstances.

He was just playing the witch… using my fear as a catalyst to get what he wanted, and it was working a treat. Ah, brains and beauty.

“Quickly,” Jackson pressed, pulling me closer in what would have looked threatening from the outside, but for me it was the opposite. The closer I got, the better I felt.

The witch’s shaking fingers flew clumsily through the pages, and she began to mumble, “Not two days away,” her pale, wrinkled face finally lifted from the book. I jumped back into Jackson; her eyes were wide and as pitch white as pearls.

How horrifying! Was she dying?

I clenched my teeth together when she continued, “He knows of her, he is coming to claim what is his. The meeting will commence just beyond the borders of this region. There will be many witnesses.”

I looked to Jackson, panicked, not knowing what any of it meant, but definitely not liking any of it either. His face was still perfect and blank, but he understood. I saw that much.

“Thank you, Mariana,” Jackson said, nodding his head slightly.

She snapped out of her trance and the book fell to the floor with a thud, along with another dirty puff of dust. Her eyes returned to that deep purple and she stumbled back as if she’d just been hit in the face. There was a short moment of silence as the witch, Mariana, stood still and watched Jackson and I. He slowly released his choke hold on me.

Mariana flinched and withdrew into the clutter of her cottage, “Please don’t hurt her,” she croaked.

She was ... crying?

Jackson was such a bully! Tears slid down her face and dropped to the ground. After all of that, I felt nothing but sorry for her. Not once did she try to hurt me, she only wanted to protect me from….Jackson?

“I would never,” Jackson muttered, turning his back to the retreating witch and replacing his arm around my waist to guide me out the door.

The claustrophobia disappeared when the sunlight streamed passed the trees again and in my direction. That smell of fresh wood was welcomed, and the events with the witch suddenly seemed like an otherworldly experience. Completely absurd and confusing and…

Frightening.

I held my tongue as Jackson wordlessly began walking me back though the forest, his arm still firmly around my waist. Tense didn’t begin to describe the atmosphere. I wasn’t confident enough to look at his face because I knew I wouldn’t like what I saw. He would have been expecting my barrage of questions any second…

Where would I start?

First of all, Pip was safe. Did Jackson know what the witch meant when she disclosed Pips location in weird witch talk? Most likely. We wouldn’t have left if he didn’t understand.

Secondly, the witch recognized me. She recognized me! A mystical being straight from a fairytale knew who I was. How? This was all undoubtedly connected to my following of demons right?

Jackson must have known.

Thirdly, and most importantly, there was a man coming to ‘claim what was his’. Me, they were taking about me. The details were vague, but that much was spelled out for me.

I took a deep breath in, “Jackson—”

“I didn’t expect this,” he interrupted, stopping our hike in the process. His voice was quivering.

My legs went numb for a bit, startled by his outburst. I took my second deep breathe. Time for answers. I moved around so I could stand in front of him and not miss anything. His jaw was clamped shut and he wouldn’t look me in the eye. That was worrying.

“Expect what?” I asked, doing my best to get him to see me. After a few minutes of silently watching him stare at a tree behind my ear, my heart started ripping around my chest.

“Jackson please…”

His eyes snapped to mine, pale green but wild like fire.

“I need to get you out of here Maggie. Right now.”