Sorceress Of Truth

By J.D. Groom

17 year old Tory Harper wants nothing more than to fit in. Her relentless classmates made her school life hell, and so she adopted a loner lifestyle, investing her time in study and music. When a surprise promotion triggers a family relocation, a change of schools is in order, and exactly what she needs.

In fact, Tory's relieved to be

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amber Grove Press
• Release date: Nov 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781916222427

J.D. Groom

Jodie spent her early life living near the cathedral city of Lichfield in the UK. After moving several times, she came to settle in the valleys of West Yorkshire with her husband and daughter. As well as writing, Jodie enjoys trying her hand at all kinds of crafts, loves to read (especially YA) and is a big fan of Formula 1. She's a typical Sagittarius; born to learn, travel and have multiple projects on the go.

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© 2019 Jodie Cross. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

For Amberley.

Always follow your dreams.

Prologue

Ilooked up at the sun in the crisp, blue autumn sky. My feet ached and I was weak with hunger from the days spent searching towns and villages for the eight girls who followed behind me. They, too, were lost in their own thoughts, deliberating the enormous task ahead.

My long black hair whipped around my face and neck in the violent wind over the moors. My skirts had become ragged, and a large tear down one sleeve exposed my arm to the elements.

I glanced down at the inside of my wrist, to the scar that was now present. He had given me this mark.

We were soon at the circle of stones. Tall and black, like jagged teeth with long shadows, they formed a desolate silhouette on the landscape.

I took my place at the headstone to the north. The other girls filtered past, with looks of fear, resignation, and foreboding on their faces.

Joining hands, we began to murmur a flowing chant. I didn’t know the words or their meaning, even though they rolled from my tongue fluently. Once the words had been spoken, they were lost.

While the chanting grew louder and more forceful, the moors took on an eerie quiet. The wind no longer howled; the wildlife seemed to have hidden in anticipation of what was to come.

The sky was spiraling in a thick black fog with veins of purple light flashing sporadically. My body felt charged with a strange thrumming that prickled my skin and I had to steady myself as a wave of dizziness took over. It was only then that I registered the ground shaking and rolling beneath our feet.

I grasped for the stone behind me for balance, and at that moment everything stopped: the chanting, the flashes, and the shaking. We stared at each other, unsure of what to do next.

Was it over?

I began to stand. The other girls did the same, although their movements were tentative. Suddenly, a loud rumble came from the centre of the circle as the ground burst apart. I fell forward, to my knees, glimpsing a fountain of gold before my head connected with the stone.

ONE

Igasped, flinging myself into a sitting position, hands holding my throat. I looked around in the morning light, picking out the familiar shapes of my bedroom furniture.

It’s just a dream, I told myself, scrambling out of bed to begin my morning routine.

The dream returned often, once a month in fact, but what frightened me most was how real it felt. I could feel the anticipation; taste the unpolluted air. Surely there was some hidden meaning, but what could it be? Each time I woke more tired than if I hadn’t slept, as if I had been walking all night as I had in my dream.

I studied the mark on my wrist, which had been there since birth. It looked like the outline of a circle with eight spokes, like a tribal tattoo of the sun.

Once dressed in my favourite jeans and comfy black hoodie, I took a look in the mirror. My face looked pale, and my black hair hung lifelessly to the small of my back. Dark smudges under my eyes were enhanced by the green of my irises. If only I could get a few more hours’ sleep.

Unfortunately, I had a long day ahead. It was my first day of sixth form in a new school and a new town. If there was anything I hated, it was being the centre of attention.

I had always been a loner, never fitting in with any group in particular. That’s probably the reason I hadn’t stayed in touch with anyone from my previous school.

I’d never taken much notice of boys either. I learned my lesson a few years earlier, when the cute guy in our year invited me to a school disco. Once inside, I was dumped in favour of more willing game. After spending a humiliating hour lingering on the sidelines, I gave in and called my mum to take me home. I realised later that this was more of a display of his own issues, but it didn’t change how it made me feel.

That little incident cost me what little social life I did have, although I didn’t mind so much. Instead, I threw myself into my studies, music, writing – anything that I could do on my own.

But today, at seventeen years old, I was wiping the slate clean with a new start. My stepdad, John, had gotten a promotion at work that meant we had to move. A few weeks later, we found ourselves in a decent-sized family home on the outskirts of Springs.

Stepping out of my daydream, I reached for my backpack and stumbled downstairs into the kitchen. Grabbing a cereal bar from one of the cupboards, I was glad my mum was already at work. She would only complain that I wasn’t eating a proper breakfast.

Once at school, having trudged uphill in the light rain, I made my way to the main reception where a frail lady in a large floral-printed dress handed me some papers to sign. She directed me to the sixth form common room and Mrs. Simpson’s office.

Mrs. Simpson was my new head of year. She was quite tall with sharp features, and a suit just as sharp.

Good morning. Tory, I presume?

I nodded in response.

Take a seat.

Edging over to the chair, I tried not to touch the mounds of paper littering the table. She dug through some schedules and handed one to me. After a brief rundown of the school timetable, she led me into the common room.

It was a large open-plan room with computers along one wall, and comfy green chairs and wooden tables lining the others. In one corner, a group of girls had gathered, keeping a distance from the other students. Mrs. Simpson strolled over to them as the rest of the room went silent.

Pepper, this is Tory, your new project. Look after her. And then she left without a second glance.

I turned to the girl I’d been abandoned with. She was around my height, a similar build, and a round face. As she stood smiling, dimples curved into her cheeks, making her look younger. Her shoulder-length, ginger hair was thick and wavy, decorated with a mass of green ribbons.

I’m Pepper. Nice to meet ya! She gave a little, excited wave of her hand.

I bobbed my head and gave a small smile to try and hide my nervousness. I’m Tory, your new project, apparently.

You’re in most of the same classes as me, Pepper said as she studied my schedule. We’re in the same form, too. Come on, I’ll show you ‘round.

As we walked through the school, I noticed for the first time the green and black netted cami, leggings, and short black skirt Pepper was wearing. All the different types of fabric and netting overlapping each other looked kind of goth, but it suited her.

Students walked by, throwing a quick glance and then scuttling off; in complete contrast to my old school, where people would walk into you without even a grunt for an apology. It all seemed so much brighter in comparison to my old school, where everything was worn down and tired. Here, there were no boarded up windows or old paint peeling from the walls.

We arrived at the form room with plenty of time to spare. As the first students in the room, we picked the best seats at the back, near the window.

Pepper, her brown eyes bright with interest, asked countless questions about my past. Without even realising it, I gave every detail about my old school, friends, and home life.

A bell rang.

Pepper’s eyes unlocked from mine, and, suddenly, I felt dizzy. I looked around to see a short grey-haired man walk in with a briefcase. The room was full of students I hadn’t even noticed arrive.

My first lesson was music, where Pepper was in her element, drawing the attention of the whole class.

Drama was in the next room, a large studio fitted with heavy black curtains and lighting rigs. We were split into small groups of four to work on improvisation, and Pepper and I were joined by the two girls I had seen her with in the common room.

Sorrel was quite lively, with a personality to match Pepper’s, and was sweet with rosy cheeks, and curly blonde hair. Bea, on the other hand, was tall and slender with short brown hair. She seemed quiet, and most of the class, including the teacher, appeared to give her a wide berth. Maybe it was the leather jacket and biker boot combo that gave Bea a dangerous edge, or maybe it was that her eyes were so dark, showing very little colour in the giant pools of black.

After class, we made our way to the comfy chairs of the common room, where I asked the girls how long they had known each other. It was hard to imagine how this group had become friends given the differences between them.

‘Bout two years, Bea replied with a coolness that suggested she would be hard to have a conversation with.

We all live together! Sorrel blurted, earning her a sharp look from Bea.

How does that work? Are you related? I asked, not seeing any resemblance between them.

No, it’s a communal house where people like us live. We have no family of our own. Outsiders. Pepper shrugged her shoulders and looked to me as if to see my reaction.

I took a drink and thought for a moment. So, how do you guys live? I mean, how do you afford to live?

It’s all to do with an organisation that houses us. There are others who are a little older and work to pay their way. Bea went back to ice-cool, obviously bored by the direction of our conversation. She sat back in her chair and picked at her already pristine nails.

Once you’re settled, maybe you can meet everyone? suggested Sorrel, excited. There are quite a few of us.

The rest of the day passed quickly. I got to know the three girls better, and by my final class, I could even find my way to the art rooms on my own.

Walking home, the monotony of the grey pavement and the regular sounds of cars passing by allowed my mind to wander into a daydream. This was the first time I had gotten through a first day without any hassle. Other students didn’t seem to be bothered by the new girl, and I actually seemed to be making some friends.

Tory, isn’t it?

I jumped at the voice breaking through my thoughts. I turned, and saw a girl leaning up against a wall I’d passed.

Sorry to startle you. How was your first day?

Fine, thanks. Do I know you? I tried to think of all the new faces I had seen.

My name’s Sarah. I’m in your year at school. Don’t worry if you don’t recognise me. I kind of blend in.

There was a slight glint in her eye as she said this. There was no way this girl would blend in: tall and extremely blonde, with looks that would turn any guy’s head. Just being near her made me feel inferior. As if sensing my discomfort, the girl, Sarah, pushed herself from the wall and stalked towards me in one fluid motion.

Erm… well, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve got to be going.

"Sure. If you need anything, let me know. We’re all very friendly around here."

The way she said this made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Maybe I was being paranoid. I turned to leave, but Sarah interrupted.

I’ll probably see you tomorrow for a chat, but here’s some inside gossip: I am having a party in a few weeks. My parents are away and I can’t let an empty house slip me by. It’ll give you a chance to meet some people. Bring some guests. It’ll be fun.

She handed me a piece of paper. I looked down at the invitation before placing it in my pocket. When I looked up, Sarah was gone.

◆◆◆

The night was mild and there was not a single cloud in the sky. The moonlight highlighted the garden outside, making shapes dance around my bedroom.

It had been an uneventful evening: eating dinner on my own and researching some techniques for art class. Mum and John had gone to salsa, another of her schemes to get them both out of the house and spending quality time together. I would never complain, I enjoyed the peace and solitude.

I leaned back in bed, placing my book on the table beside me. The vampire and human romance would have to wait for tomorrow.

As I turned to pull the covers up, a shadow loomed ominously, enlarged on the wall while it walked towards me. I froze, eyes wide, and my heart pounded as I slowly, cautiously, turned my head and looked to the window.

The shape of a cat sat down on the ledge and I breathed a sigh of relief. How could I be so stupid? I had been so convinced that something was coming to get me. Frowning at the innocent looking book, I scolded myself. That is what you get from late nights - your imagination runs wild.

After making myself comfortable I settled down into a deep sleep, undisturbed by any dreams.

TWO

Ijolted awake with the sound of the front door slamming closed. John, my stepdad, must have left for work.

A whole week had passed since my first day at school and I couldn’t believe how differently I could feel in such a small space of time. The buzz of first day nerves had been replaced by a quiet confidence, partly thanks to a full night's sleep.

After a quick wash and dressing in my jeans, I paused in the mirror. Tugging my hair into a half-decent set of plaits, a slight movement in the top corner caught my eye. I started, but when I looked again, there was nothing there. Strange.

I had arranged to meet Pepper at the local coffee shop before school. We’d only known each other a week and one day - I knew this precisely as Pepper kept reminding me - but we had clicked instantly. It still felt odd to have someone to share everything with, but when we were together it was almost like we couldn’t find the off switch. Sorrel would join in when she was with us and Bea would roll her eyes, but we made a lively group in the dinner hall.

This was my second time at the coffee shop. I’d met the girls for a drink at the weekend and it was great to get to know them better out of school. I learned that Pepper loved nothing more than a girly movie night and worked part-time at a local gym, Sorrel was into crafts, and Bea enjoyed motorsport. I smiled with fondness at the memory. We had been just a normal group of girls having a laugh, something that I’d been missing in my life.

As I rounded the corner I knew I was early, but I didn’t want to enter the rowdy mass of school uniforms on my own. Finding a vacant table outside, I pulled a book out of my bag. I’d just finished a chapter when I sensed I was not alone.

Good book? Sarah asked from the seat next to me. Do you read a lot?

She flicked her long blonde ringlets over her shoulder as she leaned closer to me. I wondered how long she had been there. I didn’t like the idea of her sneaking up on me, watching me. There was something about this girl that I didn’t trust, and I tried to hold off giving too much information.

Quite a bit, but only certain genres. I snapped the book closed, knowing my moment of peace was over.

Really? What do you like? She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow in question.

Teenage fantasy – vampires, werewolves, and the occasional zombie.

Figures.

Sorry?

Oh, I just mean it’s what everyone’s into at the moment.

Yeah, I guess. I shrugged and slipped the book into my bag, bringing the conversation to a close.

We heard a horn blare in the distance, and I turned to see a black VW Golf hurtling down the road. When I turned back to Sarah she was gone.

Again.

The car stopped next to the curb, and I strained to see through the tinted windows. I didn’t have to wait long, as the passenger door flew open and Pepper was next to me in a flash of black netting and red ribbons.

Are you okay? Who were you talking to? She sounded panicked.

A girl I met last week. She’s called Sarah. What’s wrong?

Nothing… I just thought she was somebody else…, her voice trailed off.

"Seriously, are you okay?" I asked, concerned and looking from her flushed cheeks back to the car still parked at the curb.

Oh, yeah, I’m fine. She gave a brief nod in the direction of the driver and set off into the throng of early morning caffeine addicts.

Pepper knew my order and it was her turn to buy, so I hung back in the doorway, allowing my mind to wander. Where did Sarah disappear to so quickly? And, why did Pepper seem worried?

The morning passed without incident, unless you counted Pepper’s energetic antics in our music and drama classes. Maybe the coffee hadn’t been such a great idea.

Any gossip for us, Tory? Sorrel asked as we sat in the cafeteria at lunch.

I don’t think so. People don’t tend to give me any.

Maybe it’s because you’re a bit of a loner. You could do with getting more involved, you know, she added with a shrug. Mingling.

I liked Sorrel, but I was beginning to understand her version of honesty. Well, I have met another girl. Her name’s Sarah.

Oh, which one? We’ve got quite a few.

I don’t know. I didn’t get her last name. But she invited me to a house party.

I dug in my jeans for the folded piece of paper I had been carrying around all week. The paper, I realised, was that high quality stuff used for calligraphy. The writing inside was a rich burgundy stating the time and place. It was signed with a simple ‘S’, and at the top was a symbol that looked like a crescent moon.

Let’s have a look. Pepper leaned forward and stole it from my hands before I could say another word. Her eyes widened as she took in all the details. So, this Sarah person gave you the invite?

I nodded, taking a bite of my apple. The atmosphere seemed to become cold, and even Sorrel was looking concerned.

Is she the girl you were sat with this morning?

Again, I nodded, not sure how to deal with this sudden change in mood. They really did act strangely sometimes, although I didn’t have much to compare them against.

She said to bring friends; I was hoping you guys could come with me.

The girls glanced at each other, and Bea muttered to Pepper.

We’ll need to check, but I’m sure we can make it. Pepper refolded the invite and handed it to me, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. What are you up to tomorrow, after school?

Well, you know I don’t have a social life…, I began noticing her eyes glittered mischievously. Until now…?

"Have you been to Oasis?"

Apart from school and the coffee shop with them, I hadn’t stepped outside the house since moving to Springs. My puzzled expression gave Pepper the go-ahead.

It’s a coffee lounge in the next town. They have open mic nights, amongst other things. It’s quiz night tomorrow, and we thought that maybe you would like to come with us, meet the rest of the gang.

Erm…, I almost choked as I tried to swallow a bite of my sandwich wanting to decline but finding myself agreeing instead.

Great, we’ll pick you up at six!

At home, I excused myself from the dinner table and headed up to my bedroom.

I sat on the bed, littered with music books, and I had just got settled with my guitar when there was a knock at the door.

Come in, I huffed, putting the instrument down again. It was my mum.

I thought I’d come for a chat. John and I don’t get to see much of you these days.

Which I recognised as parent talk for ‘we are worried and want to