Black Wood

By Jayde Scott

Emily Jones used to think witches, trolls, nymphs, and fairies didn't exist...that is, until she moves to Scotland and receives a magical diary, which makes wishes come true. She learns that magic can change her life, but little does she know every wish has a price. When something goes terribly wrong and a portal to Black Wood opens, magical creatures ruled by a powerful evil sorceress are eager to enter and destroy the world.

Now danger follows Emily everywhere, and she has no choice but to find allies among the trolls. But to do so, Emily must embrace her powers and enter Black Wood, not knowing how dark and deep her journey is going to be.

Will Emily learn to use her legacy in time before Black Wood's deadly servants are unleashed to destroy the world?

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.C. Reed
• Release date: Sep 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393079897

Jayde Scott

Jayde Scott is a British writer and the creator of the Ancient Legends series. When she’s not writing, she spends her time overloading on caffeine and chocolate muffins, and talking about her characters with anyone who will listen.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Emily walked up the cobblestone path and peered at the tall Scottish mansion. Ravencourt Manor was still as creepy as she remembered it: big and gloomy with a draft in every corner. Taking in the old, murky walls with their peeling plaster and dark-green honeysuckle, she shivered. The vine stretching from the ground to the turrets and windows on the first floor looked like a hand sucking the life out of the red brick. And maybe it did, for the house seemed dead as a cemetery with its iron-wrought gates, stone-mullioned sills and weeds raking out of every crevice.

Dark clouds gathered in the distance. A black crow swooped over her head and perched on the cast iron roof. The scent of damp earth hung heavy in the chilly December air. She squeezed her father’s hand when a crack of thunder made her jump.

I wish Mum and Sam were here, Emily whispered.

You know that’s not possible. He opened the large wooden doors. Now come along.

The shutters on the first floor buckled in the wind. With slow steps she entered the wide hallway and followed her father to the kitchen. Her brother, Sam, had often joked that drafts were ghosts creeping slowly toward one. Emily knew it wasn’t true because her grandmother had called it nonsense. But now, standing in the large kitchen with a cold breeze blowing from beyond the closed door, the memory of Sam’s words made her legs wobbly.

The room was dark given that it was only midday. She lifted a finger and poked at a huge cobweb hanging from the chipped mugs near the window as she glanced at the large backyard with its high grass and thick bushes. Her grandmother had always liked wild flowers, but the garden looked like you could hide an elephant in there and no one would ever notice.

Everything okay? her father asked from the door, his arms straining with the weight of several large bags.

Yes, Dad, she whispered, but he was already gone, the sound of creaking floorboards and thuds giving away that he was in the next room, opening and closing windows and cupboards.

Emily climbed up the stairs to her room and found her suitcases on the thick wool blanket that covered her bed. She pulled down the zipper and placed her clothes and her favourite teddy neatly inside the empty drawers of a brown closet. She didn’t take her other stuffed animals and toys with her because she knew she wouldn’t be staying in Inverness long. Her mum and dad just needed some time apart. Besides, her room didn’t lack much. On her rare visits, her grandmother used to buy her whatever Emily desired.

She stood in front of a big mirror, brushing her long, brown hair, as she took in her large hazelnut eyes, thin nose and pink cheeks. Her father always said she looked like her grandmother when she was younger. Except for the hair. One day, she’d dye her hair orange just like her grandmother's.

Her fingertips traced her grandparents’ contours on the old picture frame in her hand when she heard her father call.

What? Emily shouted back, placing the picture frame back on the bedside table.

I said, dinner’s ready, her father’s voice said, louder.

Emily sighed and blew her smiling grandparents a kiss as her gaze turned toward the window to the high, rounded tower perched on the hill in the distance. Urquhart Caste with its grey walls and haunted grounds. Her grandmother had told her about the narrow, overgrown trails twisting through villages and woods leading to the castle, meant to keep visitors away. Maybe her father would take her there if he wasn’t too busy with work.

She put on her slippers and hurried down the stairs, then froze in her tracks. The sound of female laughter echoed from the kitchen.

Who was that? She frowned, hesitating, before walking in. A pretty blonde woman watched her father with a smile as she brushed the hair from the eyes of a boy with very pale skin and hundreds of freckles covering his nose and cheeks. The boy slumped in his chair, picking at a scab on his arm. The smell of baked beans and sausages tickled Emily’s nose.

Oh, good. Come here, Emily, her father said. This is Aurelie. He pointed at the woman. And that’s her nephew, Clifford. They’re our next door neighbours.

Hi, Emily. Your dad has told us so much about you, Aurelie said, smiling. She was a little short, but slim, with pink cheeks and blue eyes. You must miss your brother terribly. How old is he?

Fifteen, her father said.

Aurelie reached out to shake Emily’s hand. Emily squeezed it and noticed that the woman’s skin was dry and unpleasant, almost like a bar of soap. She dropped Aurelie’s hand quickly. As she looked away, she spotted the strange boy squinting at her through brown, sleepy eyes.

Clifford, get up now, Aurelie said through gritted teeth, her mouth contorting as she tried to keep her forced smile in place.

Her old Aunt Betty would smile like that, and she wasn’t a very pleasant person to be around. Aunt Betty said the meanest things and she always knew everything better than everyone else. Like how you should sit at the table and how to sip your cup of tea instead of slurping.

The boy stood to shake Emily’s hand. How do you do? His voice sounded as uninterested as his half-shut eyes. Emily wondered how he had actually spoken with his mouth closed.

Well, my Clifford’s fourteen, only a year older than you. You’ll be best friends, Aurelie said.

In spite of Aurelie’s stern looks and pursed lips, Clifford didn’t say another word throughout dinner, yet Emily noticed that, for some reason, he didn’t stop staring at her. At first, she avoided his gaze, but soon she had enough and stared back. Clifford’s face turned bright red like a tomato. He lowered his eyes to his plate and started chewing on his lips. What a weird boy. With a triumphant smile, Emily tuned back in to the conversation between her father and their new neighbour.

My, what a shame the children aren’t the same age. If they were, they’d be in the same class, said Aurelie with the same frozen smile on her face that Emily was starting to dislike.

Emily snorted. Boy was she glad. She couldn’t imagine having to bear Clifford’s spooky stares day in, day out. She knew boys were strange. Just look at Sam and his friends, and how they always screamed and punched at each other. But this one was completely out of sorts.

But since the children go to the same school they will probably have the same afternoon activities and will finish at the same time, Aurelie continued.

Just stop calling me a child, Emily muttered.

Her father looked at her with raised eyebrows. Aurelie took a sip of her Earl Grey tea and carried on. I don’t mind giving Emily a lift home when I pick Clifford up. She can stay with us until you’re back from work. Isn’t that a lovely idea, my dears?

Don't think so. This wasn’t a good idea at all. Her father wouldn’t be home before six and her school usually finished at three. How could she possibly spend three hours in the presence of Aurelie and weird Clifford? Her father would never agree. She looked up at him expectantly. He wouldn’t, would he?

I plan on employing a babysitter, her father said.

Dad, you can't be serious, Emily whispered. I'm almost fourteen.

Almost, he whispered back. It's either a babysitter or Aurelie.

Given the choice, she knew which one to take. She could deal with a babysitter. They weren’t that bad.

But, there’s no need, Aurelie said. What a waste of money! You need to buy so many things for the house. She looked around, gesturing with her hands. Maybe a few rugs and proper curtains. And you know, letting a stranger into your home is never a good idea, Edgar.

Emily frowned. Why was this woman calling her father by his first name? Aurelie was a stranger too. So, what was she doing in their home? I think a babysitter is a great idea, Dad!

You’re too young to speak up without being addressed first, Aurelie said. Her thin lips were still contorted in a smile, but her blue eyes shined unnaturally now and her grin showed more teeth than before. Emily couldn’t help but smile. Aurelie looked like one of those Chihuahua dogs with fletched teeth. Only, not even half as cute.

Oh well, you’re probably right, Aurelie. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave Emily with you for a few afternoons a week. I wouldn’t know how to find a babysitter so soon anyway, especially in a remote area like this, her father said. She’ll be no trouble at all.

Aurelie clapped her knobbly hands. Goody, goody, she exclaimed happily, like the cat who got the cream. We’ll have a marvellous time, won’t we, children?

Emily rolled her eyes. She really doubted that, particularly if the woman didn't stop calling them 'children.'

Chapter 2

After the first day at her new school, Emily sat on Aurelie’s fluffy sofa, holding a cup of hot tea in her hand.

You’ll have to drink that eventually, my dear. Aurelie’s voice was soft, yet her stern look didn’t leave any doubt that her words were an order rather than a friendly reminder.

So I shall when it’s cooled down. I don’t drink my tea hot, Emily said, imitating the blonde woman’s voice. Aurelie grimaced, but