A First Time like No Other - Sonya Pt. 10

"Malleus?"

"Yes! That was it."

Paula gave Jolene a concerned look. "I don't think the spirit in your dream is so innocent, Thomas. That was the guide for identifying witches and how to torture and kill them. Once distributed it really fanned the flames of hysteria."

"The Witch's Hammer. I remember it from class. Why would she call it her diary, then? It was written by two Catholic clergy."

"Maybe her diary was a rough draft?" pondered Jolene.

"No, I agree the plot has thickened, but she just didn't seem like someone who would cause lives to be taken, especially children," said Thomas.

"Why do you defend her so?" asked Jolene.

"I can't say. She looked a lot like you, and you too Paula. Maybe I just still had a glow from you making me your plaything."

"We did nothing without your consent," snapped Jolene.

"And you have it anytime, but weren't we supposed to do more?"

"After you ruined the bed coverings?" smiled Paula.

"What, you know magic but can't remove stains with it?" he said. Paula rolled her eyes.

Jolene wasn't paying them attention. "This fragment is the key," she said.

"The language no longer exists," said Thomas. "Unless you can conjure a time machine, we are screwed."

"The language may not exist, but that doesn't mean we are screwed. We need a linguistics expert. There may be other artifacts that have this language on it as well."

"So we can go home?" asked Paula.

"No, we need to go further north - sorry - and east."

"Eastern Europe?"

"Russia."

"What's in Russia?" Thomas asked.

"Someone who can help," said Jolene.

"You realize we have only three days left of Spring Break? I also don't think my parent's name has much pull in Russia."

"You lost your bet. No backing out now."

Thomas groaned.

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The historical site of Boris Grumrev was one of the most terrifying places Thomas had ever seen. They had been studying about witches being persecuted. After seeing what this sorcerer was capable of, he could understand why it might have happened. Boris leveled villages with fire, or impaled people alive while feeding on their blood. His favorite meal was raw human flesh, the younger, the better.

"Lovely place you've brought us to, Jolene, and they have preserved it so well! I wonder if they have the locals visit for Halloween?" Thomas asked sarcastically.

"Baron Grumrev was notorious for his evil, yes, but also his appetite for more power," she said. "This place has the largest collection of works on the ancient occult in the world."

"I don't like this place," said Paula. "Do we really have to stay so close by?"

"I don't either," said Jolene. "If something horrible comes after us, be sure to paralyze Thomas again. It will buy us some time."

"Very funny," said Thomas. "We could also make it try and get through your hair."

"Enough!" shrieked Paula. "The evil here is far too dark to make jokes about. Let's just find someone who can help us."

"I already told you," said Jolene, "we have an appointment. I can't believe we were able to see him so quickly. He is famous."

"Why, thank you," came an oily voice from behind them.

Thomas nearly burst out laughing. The guy was a spitting image of Riff Raff, the old alien from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. If he suddenly jumped to the left, Thomas wouldn't have been able to hold it in.

"Professor Von Syke," he said and extended his hand. Thomas shook it. He didn't offer it to the women.

"What do you have for me?" he asked, getting straight to the point. He held out his hand to Jolene.

"Is there a place we can sit?" asked Jolene. Thomas didn't blame her for asking. They were by the display of a large pit that still contained the bones of hundreds of the Baron's victims. Most were partial remains from his mutilations. Others were victims he tossed in while they were still alive.

The Professor turned without saying a word. He led them to a small room that had a small table and four chairs. A water pitcher sat on a nearby serving table. He didn't offer them any.

After they had sat, Jolene began. "Thank you, Professor. I was wondering if you had ever seen this language before?" She handed him the small fragment with strange writing on it.

His eyes widened with astonishment. "Impossible!" He exclaimed. "Where did you get this?"

"It was hidden in this old diary," said Jolene. She pulled out the diary.

Professor Von Syke flew into a rage. "How dare you bring that here!"

The water in the pitcher started boiling. The pitcher shattered and burst, sending shards everywhere. The walls were covered in water. Everywhere the water touched they burst into flame.

"How dare you!" the Professor screamed again.

Jolene deftly snatched the small fragment and nodded her head towards the door. They exited quickly, leaving the professor flapping his coat at the flames. Bells started sounding as smoke poured out of the room. Servants almost as old and strange looking as the Professor came hobbling down the hall with buckets of water.

It wasn't until they were well over the border and had landed in Florence that Jolene would talk about what had happened. Paula seemed to have some idea. Thomas was just glad to have made it out alive.

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"Your visiting spirit is actually a very good witch," said Jolene as they sat in the women's home once again.

"Because she nearly burned down that old museum? We were lucky they let us out of the country."

"We did them a favor. The place has been an eyesore for the forces that be for some time."

"Forces that be?" he asked.

"The fool thought he had a fragment of ancient dark magic," said Jolene.

"It was ancient white magic," said Paula. "It sure cleansed that place quick, didn't it?"

"The fire? They put it out before it did any real damage," said Thomas.

"No, the evil. Didn't you feel it?" asked Jolene. "It was like it tucked its tail and ran."

"The only thing I felt was like tucking my own tail and running. Care to explain how a tiny scrap of paper with writing on it cleansed a place that creepy of evil?"

"It wasn't just the parchment. The old fool knew the language. When he read it in his mind, he unlocked the diary. It did it's work perfectly."

"The diary cleanses evil? I thought you said it was the manifest that led to the witch hunt atrocities."

"My mistake," said Jolene. "The burn marks weren't made by your spirit. They were made by the evil witches. The ones who had truly made a pact with the Devil. They were trying to destroy it, but couldn't, so they wrote their own version. It made them look good in the eyes of the church."

"You are saying the two clergy were actually evil witches?" he asked.

"No, just influenced by them," said Paula.

"Sadly," said Jolene, "this probably means your spirit met a terrible fate."

Thomas focused on the dream. "No, she didn't. Her name was Sonya and she survived."

"How?"

"She moved here. Had a lot of fun, too. She is your ancestor, Jolene."

"How do you all of the sudden remember?"

"The contest."

"What contest?"

"Between you two. Sorry to say, she wins all categories hands down."

They both rolled their eyes.

"I don't know, Paula, remember how that pitcher of water boiled before it burst into shards?" asked Jolene, getting a wicked smile.

"Yes."

Jolene pulled out the diary and opened it, then pointed it at Thomas as she chased him around the place. "Corner him in the bedroom Paula. He will rue the day he knocked our beauty."

"I think we need to cover everything with plastic first," laughed Paula. "Like an episode of Dexter, only it won't be blood splattering everywhere."

"It could be. What say you, Thomas? You still gonna act like we don't exist in school anymore?" Jolene was stripping off her clothes as she ran.

Thomas loved going to school in Florence. He closed his eyes and thought of Sonya. She probably would too.

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The End