"Fila, you know he will try to stop us, don't you? He always has. Each time anyone has tried to read the Welle family Grimoire, they have died," said a young woman, her lip trembling.
"I know, but we have to try. If we don't, the child will be dead before Christmas, Lira. And this time it's different... We aren't trying to use the grimoire for the benefit of our family, but for one we barely know," insisted Fila.
"I don't think it will make any difference. Each time Darranger Mortus has returned, he has been unwilling to listen to reason. And there's no way to stop him until sunrise once he's been awakened," replied Lira, gently dabbing her cheek with a Kleenex.
"Are you truly so fearful of death, and finding out what awaits us in the next life? Growing up, you were always the bold one. My wild, fearless little sister," Fila replied smiling.
"No... I just don't want to watch you die. I wish I could perform the spell alone," mourned Lira.
"You know it requires two. One to prepare the ingredients, and another to say the words while preparing the patient to receive the cure," Fila reminded her sister.
"We are the last of our bloodline... I can take some comfort in knowing that if neither of us survive, we will go together. And our tormentor will finally find peace - one way or another, this ends with us," replied Lira, regaining some of her fiery spirit.
"Plus, if we work swiftly, we can cure her before he awakens. And there is a good chance that we will be the first to survive the curse. We are the most powerful our family has ever produced, after all. I wouldn't be trying this unless I thought it would work, you know that," said Fila.
"Of course. It's just that Halloween is coming so fast. It's a shame that our great grandmother put a spell on the grimoire so it can only be read at midnight on Halloween. I would have liked a couple of weeks more to prepare for the battle with Mortus," said Lira for the hundredth time.
"As would I. But you know she tied the spell to the curse to protect us. As long as the grimoire is cursed, it's dangerous for anyone to try to use it. By only having the opportunity once a year, when we are at our strongest, she made sure it wouldn't be used lightly, and those doing so could have a fighting chance," replied Fila.
"Yes, it really was a wise decision," admitted Lira.
Halloween night:
"Everything is fine, Christine. You are just going to sleep for a while, and when you wake up you should feel a lot better. If we aren't here, just push the button on the phone I'm giving you, and your mom and dad will answer right away," Fila said kindly.
She then gave the frail child a hot cup of something with an exotic aroma. Soon Christine yawned, then stretched out on the couch.
"It's time," announced Lira, glancing at the little girl.
At midnight words began to appear on the blank pages of the ancient book.
"We have until one second before 12:01," thought Lira as she quickly located and began the spell to purge death from the living.
Ingredients were rapidly mixed, and in under 45 seconds the spell was complete, and the child had been given the cure. Still asleep, her complexion was already improving.
"Prepare for battle," advised Lira as the seconds ticked.
Fila nodded, and squeezed her sister's hand.
The house was suddenly plunged into darkness, then every light in the room came on. It was now freezing in the small living room, despite being a warm night. Christine curled up, shivering in her sleep.
"Witches... I am here to ensure that you never practice your evil craft again," announced a young man, dressed in old fashioned clothing such as that worn by pilgrims in colonial days. He was pale, but not transparent.
"Witch-hunter Mortus. I plead with you to hear us out. The craft we used on this night was to cure a dying child. One who is not of our bloodline," replied Fila, as she drew Power from the earth.
"Let me see this child. If it's of your blood, it will die with you and the other witch on this night," he said with a snarl.
He leaned over the child, then gasped.
"You would save one of my blood?" Mortus asked, incredulous.
Hiding her surprise, Fila drew herself to her full height before replying. "Yes I would. My sister and I would help anyone in need, including those of your blood."
Hesitating, the ghost looked around. "Are you not evil witches, who sacrifice souls to become powerful?" he asked, confused.
"We are not, Darranger Mortus. We draw Power from this good earth that your God and ours created. Then we use it to help others," replied Lira.
"I am unsure of what you say, but at the same time, I behold my ancestor lying here, healthy and with the smell of a potion upon her lips," he said, frowning.
"She had a blood disease, and would have been dead soon without the treatment," Fila informed him.
"I shall spare you - both of you," said the witch-hunter. As soon as he did, he began to fade.
Suddenly he smiled. "Finally I can rest, my job here is finished."
After he was gone, Lira smiled. "I didn't know she was a Mortus!"
"Neither did I. Her last name is Morton. But it wouldn't have made any difference to me," replied Fila.
"Me either," agreed Lira
Cover image made in Canva using their gallery