The Witch Born to Ignite Read online

  The Witch Born to Ignite

  Book One in the Inferno Series

  Tanya Milne

  Praise for Inferno

  Can we say book smorgasbord. You have a evil tyrant, an even more loath-able minion. Not 1, not 2, but 3 possible knights. One love-able couple. Some questionable animals…This story is a dystopian, spell casting twist and turns mystery. I love it. But 2 seem to be even more promising.

  Amber, Goodreads Reviewer

  A little slow at first like a roller coaster going up the lift hill, but once it gets to the top all hell breaks loose. Our story becomes a fast paced, action packed thrill ride with magic, romance, twists, and turns. This is a phenomenal start to a new series, which I highly recommend.

  Donna, Goodreads Reviewer

  So many words, so little space. This book struck so many chords for me on so many levels…Being where I live in in this current time and political upheaval, this book has hit home…This blend of fantasy had an edge of realness that intensified the fear and empathy of characters. I can not recommend this book enough, and I look forward to the others.

  Brandi, Amazon Reviewer

  Copyright © 2019 by Tanya Milne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  History, we know, is apt to repeat herself, and to foist very old incidents upon us with only a slight change of costume.

  George Eliot

  Chapter One

  I stopped walking under the sprawling green leaves of the oak tree and gazed up at my new home. It was as pretty as the pictures we’d seen – a three-storey white timber house with a much-loved garden. But there was something else about it as well. For a split second, it was as though the house were no longer made of timber and glass, but instead were a living thing – with eyes and ears and heart – that had been waiting for me to arrive.

  ‘First one in gets to pick their room,’ said Elijah, my twin brother, before he raced past me, his packing box jiggling around in his arms.

  Elijah may have been bigger and stronger, but I was faster. Even with a box digging into my arms, I caught him on the stairs leading to the veranda, and we dashed through the wide double doors, side by side, and into the house. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mum and Dad in the kitchen. They looked up, small smiles on their lips. I smiled back and before I knew it, Elijah reached the internal stairs before me, his large frame making him impossible to overtake.

  ‘Ha!’ he yelled, taking a left at the top of the first turn in the stairs and claiming – according to the house plans – the biggest of the two bedrooms on offer to us, and the only one with its very own en-suite bathroom.

  I followed him into his pale-blue room with oak floors and wide windows that ran along the front and side of the room. Grinning, he put his box down in the middle of his ridiculously large room and surveyed his kingdom.

  ‘You know, every seventeen-year-old girl needs her own bathroom,’ I snarled, sounding like a five-year-old.

  ‘All’s fair in love and war, sis,’ said Elijah, a goofy smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back. Honestly, even after us spending every single day of our lives together, I could never stay mad at him.

  ‘Well, in that case, adios,’ I said, before sighing as I thought about my new bedroom in the attic, at the very apex of the house – no doubt dusty, stuffy, cramped and forgotten.

  I made my way back onto the landing outside of Elijah’s bedroom and looked down at the heavy box in my arms. In large black writing across its top were the words BOOKS – CELLAR and below that in faded writing, the word DESTROY. Clearly, the box had been given a second life. My skin prickled as I took in the word CELLAR. No one had mentioned a cellar.

  After taking one last glance up towards my room, I walked down the stairs. Sure enough, there was another set of stairs twisting down underneath the house.

  ‘I’m dropping this box in the cellar,’ I called out. And then getting the heck out of there, I added silently.

  ‘Okay, honey,’ my mum replied, still in the kitchen, no doubt unpacking. ‘Be careful down there.’

  I made my way down the stairs and opened the creaking old timber door that appeared to be even older than the two-hundred-year-old home. Darkness and stale air greeted me. But there was something else too – something that made me crave light and fresh air. I told myself that I was being ridiculous and made myself stand still as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Slowly the light turned grey and I saw an empty room – a room with no life and not one happy story to share. A place I had no intention of staying in for longer than absolutely necessary. I took a few quick steps inside, feeling as though some invisible nasty presence had jumped straight onto me. In my haste, I dropped the box and several of the books tumbled out onto the concrete.

  ‘Damn it,’ I grumbled before collecting the books, then shoving them back into the box. I was about to bolt when I saw one large, thick book still on the ground. I leaned over and picked it up. The moment it was in my hand, a pulse of electricity passed through me. Standing, I brought the book close to my face. Dominating its velvet-clad cover was an embossed silver symbol of a star, surrounded by a circle; the same symbol that was on the necklace I’d been given as a little girl, but was never allowed to wear. There were no words on the front or the back. I ran my hand over the soft fabric, the urge to open the cover as strong as the currents in the sea. I was about to do so when Mum yelled, ‘Eva, darling, can you come and help me?’

  My twitching hand froze. Just one peek.

  ‘Eva!’

  ‘Coming, Mum.’ I ran my hand over the symbol one last time before carefully putting the book back in the box and pushing it into the corner of the cellar. I shivered before dashing out the door, slamming it shut, and taking the stairs, two steps at a time, until I was back in the house. I took a few moments to calm my thudding heart and walked into the kitchen, where my mum and her beautiful smiling face waited for me.

  By the time I visited my new bedroom, the sun was sliding towards the horizon. I’d spent the rest of the day helping Mum unpack downstairs. My legs ached as I climbed the stairs. There’d been no pictures of the attic in the real estate photos, so I knew the attic couldn’t be good. I told myself that it didn’t matter, that I only had one year left of school before college. It wasn’t as though I’d be stuck there for years and years.

  I stopped on the landing at the top of the stairs outside my new bedroom, surprised that both sides of the door had long panels of stained glass with patterns of the moon and the stars, sunlight reflecting through them.

  Taking a long breath, I entered the open door and stepped into my room. As I looked around, my mouth dropped open. For starters, my room was not small and stuffy – it was what real estate agents would call spacious. It spanned the whole width of the house and was generous in size and proportions. And it was full of light.

  Running all the way across the front of the house and down both sides were enormous casement windows. I strolled across the empty room, my every step drawing a groan from the honey-coloured floorboards. One by one, I pushed open the perfectly-cared-for windows. Sweet, warm summer air that smelled like roses and freshly mowed grass blew into my room. Outside, the sturdy branches from the oak tree sat just under my windows, leaving an uninterrupted view of our quiet street, which was soaked in pale-pink afternoon light.

  I turned, a smile spreading on my face as I took in my simple, beautiful white room with a stunning crystal chandelier that hung in its centre. Warmth surged through me; I knew t
hat I was welcome here and this room – sans bathroom – had claimed me as much as I had claimed it.

  As I walked around my room, I pictured where my furniture would go and how it would look. In the far corner of the room, I saw a flash of light and the face of a young woman staring back at me. I gasped as I realised I was staring into a mirror and the young woman – with long dark hair that was untamed and curly in the heat, ivory skin, and the same violet-blue eyes as Elijah’s – was, in fact, me.

  It dawned on me that with my braces gone, my skin cleared and my curves eventually showing up, I had FINALLY lost my awkward teenage look that had hung around for years. I had grown into myself and was sitting on the edge of adulthood.

  When had I changed? Over a day? A year? Just now, in this moment? Would I finally fit in?

  My entire life I’d felt one step behind or ahead of everyone except for my immediate family. It was as though everyone knew something I should and nothing of what I did. A tiny bud of hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe my parents were right. Maybe moving house, school and life in my final year of school, away from our extended family and all that we had ever known – a concept I had fought belligerently – would be a good thing after all. I’d tell my parents it was all going to be okay – take them out of the misery I’d put them in. Maybe it would stop their anxious late-night conversations that had been creeping through the cracks in my bedroom door and windows.

  I heard Pearl’s soft purring before her pure-white body strutted into the room. As she sidled up to my leg, I squatted beside her and started to gently pat my cat, who looked as though she’d lived in this house forever. ‘And what do you think of our new room, precious Pearl?’

  Pearl purred even louder, as though she knew exactly what I was saying, making me laugh out loud. That was impossible, of course. Pearl stepped forward, the floorboard under her feet rising from the ground. I moved her aside and raised the floorboard to find a cavity that would easily fit a few books or a box. As I looked inside this secret cavity, I realised what I’d sensed in the cellar. It was something that no one in my family spoke about, yet felt as familiar to me as the skin on the backs of my hands. Just like this cavity, inside the darkness of the cellar lay secrets that were hidden from the world, just waiting for the right moment to come to the light.

  Chapter Two

  I took one last glance at my new home sitting there so sweetly in the morning sunlight before I closed the front gate behind me. Every part of me wanted to climb the stairs to my attic and slip into bed with a good book, just as I’d done every morning in the two weeks since we’d moved in.

  But not today. School holidays were – devastatingly – over. Today was the first day at our new school and the first day of our senior year.

  I glanced up at Elijah, who was humming a tune beside me. ‘How can you be so…happy?’

  ‘Well, it’s not like we’re going to war.’

  ‘Are you ever unhappy?’ I said before groaning. ‘I mean, we won’t know anyone, not a single soul.’

  Elijah turned and smiled at me, his eyes clear and bright. ‘Well, you know me – at least one living soul.’

  I rolled my eyes, knowing that from the moment we arrived at school, Elijah would be surrounded by girls batting their eyelashes and boys jostling for him to join their sports teams.

  ‘You don’t count,’ I said.

  ‘Is that so?’ said Elijah, wrapping one of his long arms around my shoulder. ‘Oh, come on, Eva, how bad can it be? A sweet little town like this.’

  I remembered back to my last school, where I’d always felt as though I was the odd one out. Butterflies took flight inside me.

  ‘Bad,’ I whispered.

  Elijah squeezed my shoulders. ‘It’s going to be okay, sis, I promise. I’ll be by your side. In fact, I’ll be like a sticky fly you can’t get rid of.’

  I laughed despite myself. He was right – if he was by my side, I’d get through the long day ahead.

  ‘And besides, you totally underestimate yourself,’ he said. ‘I’m going to be swatting boy flies off you.’

  I pulled down my cap further. ‘Yeah, right.’

  Elijah raised an eyebrow at me. ‘I don’t want to give you a big head, but I haven’t forgotten the trouble you cause.’

  For years boys had actively steered clear of me, avoiding my pimples and mouth full of silver. But lately…lately, things had changed and not for the better. I let out a sigh and blocked out that train of thought, which went absolutely nowhere.

  I glanced at the houses along the street: old weatherboards and brick homes all tucked in perfectly beside each other and decorated with their pretty gardens and shady trees.

  ‘This place, it’s almost too perfect,’ I said as we crossed the quiet tree-lined street.

  Elijah laughed. ‘How can a place be too perfect?’

  ‘I know, I know. It sounds a bit strange, but you have to agree – every house, every street, even the old cobbled town with its cutesy shops – it looks like something in a storybook.’

  ‘It’s something, isn’t it? But let’s face it, nothing is perfect. You know that.’

  I nodded and looked past the facades and into the windows of the houses we passed. No one was spared from the ups and downs of life, not even people who lived in perfect houses.

  ‘Hey, is it just me, or have Mum and Dad completely lost it? Telling us not to talk to anyone about our family back home?’ asked Elijah, his voice turning serious.

  I recalled the conversation we’d had around the dinner table the night before. Our parents had been acting strangely lately, even for them. But that family chat had been one of the strangest of all time.

  ‘Yep, they’ve lost it,’ I said, picturing our parents’ fake smiles that did nothing to hide the fear flashing in their eyes.

  ‘I mean, why would they even care what we said? It’s not like Uncle Jack is Jack the Ripper, and the only thing Aunt Mira ever bakes in the oven is her cakes.’

  I laughed, but still, their conversation the night before had niggled at me all through the night. I could still picture my parents telling us how important it was to have a fresh start and that our business wasn’t anyone else’s business.

  ‘It must be to do with the troubles with that new mayor. What’s his name again?’ I said, picturing his dark hair, dough-like skin, small eyes and bushy eyebrows.

  ‘Orpheus Blackthorn,’ said Elijah.

  ‘Yeah, him. He seems to be stirring up all kinds of trouble with the new laws he’s bringing in every five minutes.’

  ‘You might be right. I mean, everyone seems to think he’ll be good and may even know how to run the country for once. And, for bonus points, he even possesses charisma. But still.’

  ‘But still,’ I said, remembering the way Orpheus’s pale-blue eyes in no way matched his picture-perfect smile. ‘Come to think of it, I’ve heard Mum and Dad talk about him. Or, should I say, whisper.’

  ‘I know. What’s with all the whispering and worry?’ said Elijah.

  ‘It’s not like them. Something is up.’

  ‘Maybe we should grill them like they grill us.’

  ‘No, like they grill you,’ I said, laughing.

  I saw the school gates in the distance, and my laughter died in my throat.

  Elijah looked between the school gates and me, his face softening. If I were a little girl, I would’ve clutched his hand. But I was seventeen, a senior now, and I would have to make do with knowing he would stay by my side. For the millionth time in my life, I said a silent thank you to the universe for sending me a twin brother who was more angel than human.

  I had just dropped my shoulders when a car squealed down the street behind us. We stopped as a black convertible slowed down and its occupants stared – no, gawked – at us.

  I glanced down at the ground, but not before I caught a glimpse of the cool, leather-clad driver who looked like one thing and one thing only: trouble. A long and loud wolf whistle came from the car. I wanted the g
round to open up and swallow me whole. The car tyres squealed again and the car shot off towards school.

  ‘I told you, sis. Just think of me as your personal fly swat.’

  ‘Oh, do shut up.’

  ‘At least not everyone here is perfect,’ said Elijah before laughing and continuing down the path as though he were going for a stroll down a country lane.

  As we entered the large iron school gates, every head turned in our direction. I looked straight ahead and tried to breathe while Elijah smiled and casually waved at those around us. Clearly, they didn’t get many new kids here.

  Great, just great.

  We made our way to the stairs to the main building. I forced myself to walk up them slowly, resisting the temptation to bolt as every part of me screamed to do. Elijah opened the door and I stepped inside, bumping straight into a guy trying to leave.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said as he lurched backwards. I rushed forward and grabbed his arm, stopping his fall.

  He turned, his dark-brown eyes finding mine. I expected to see anger or at the very least annoyance, but there was only a cute grin on his handsome face.

  ‘Nothing to be sorry about,’ he said. ‘Can’t remember the last time a girl knocked me off my feet.’

  ‘I can arrange that more often if you like,’ said a soft female voice behind me. I turned and there was the female version of the guy I had just run into. Blonde hair, brown eyes and a big happy smile.

  I smiled shyly back at her. I turned to Elijah, but his gaze was lasered in on the admittedly beautiful young woman.

  Typical.

  I cleared my throat and introduced Elijah and myself.

  ‘I’m Noah and this is Anna,’ said Noah. ‘And you must be the new twins from… Where was it?’