The Ondine Collection by Ebony McKenna

Author:Ebony McKenna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult fantasy, young adult romance, young adult contemporary, young adult magic, talking ferret, ebony mckenna, young adult series, young adult fairy tales
Publisher: EbonyMcKenna
Published: 2017-11-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

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Fear turned Ondine’s belly to lead. While Mrs. Howser extolled the virtues of ‘Deep Magic’, the oily shadow stretched and flowed out from her in an egg-whites-from-the-yolk kind of way. Then it folded and twisted into something low and menacing, making no sound as it sank to the floor. Ears straining, Ondine heard no gasps from the crowd; the audience could not see what was going on.

The shadow had to be using the lectern as a shield.

Ondine and Hamish froze together, hardly daring to breathe. Like a sniffer-dog picking up a scent, the dark shape moved as if seeking them out. It found a gap in the timber and oozed through, pouring itself into their cramped space.

Moments earlier, lust had made Ondine’s heart race. Now she felt the organ catapult against her ribs in terror as the shadow pulsed and leeched through the timber crack. At first a worm shape to get through the tiny space, the head of it spread out into something not quite human but entirely grotesque. It was featureless but it had rounded pits where its eyes might be. Coldness spread through Ondine as those pits turned directly at her. Hamish’s body rippled with tension as he held her tightly. Neither of them dared breathe. She couldn’t move a muscle from fear. The transparent oil-slick of darkness swayed hypnotically left and right. Tendrils moved outwards from the bulbous end, creating a Medusa head of tentacles only a hand-span from Ondine’s face.

The one thing that stopped her from screaming was the way Hamish held her. No sooner had that thought filtered through her brain than – boomph – he was gone and she rolled into the space where he used to be. Plumes of dust flew up her nose, but she didn’t dare cough for fear of being found out.

Wait, what? Where was Hamish?

He’d turned into a ferret!

Fine then, he could run off for help. Good man!

The black . . . thing . . . didn’t flinch. Its faceless head with dents where eyes should be and writhing tentacles for hair stayed focused on Ondine.

Just as she thought she couldn’t be any more grossed out, the tentacles grew like pea-sprouts, curling and wrapping around the floorboards and beams for support as the rest of its octopus-body poured through the crack. Through another gap in the boards, she caught a glimpse of Mrs. Howser. The shadow was still connected to her, leeching out of her, stretching like elastic but not breaking.

All the while Mrs. Howser kept on with her speech, her voice reassuring, calm, and considerate. “We cannot have day without night, light without shade or a summer without winter. This Deep Magic is not to be shunned or feared, it is to be embraced. It makes us whole.”

So believable.

So hypnotic.

Fresh panic shot through Ondine. Was Mrs. Howser mesmerising the entire gathering of witches?

Shambles. Where was Shambles? Had he run to get help? Run to warn everyone? Her ears strained for the sound of scurrying claws on timber.

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