The Kuthun Read Online Free PDF

concentration. ‘Like I said before, you have turned sixteen which is significant and that is why you have received it now. A kuthun must not be given until the receiver is ready, so to speak. As for the other question of its power, well it holds many generations, I mean ancient generations, of the Cole bloodline. The power of it will ultimately depend on you.’ She is starting to fade. ‘Don’t be afraid Elena, trust yourself now.’
    And with that she is gone.
    Damn it! I stamp my foot in frustration. I have so many more questions. At least some have been answered. I look towards the kuthun, wondering how something that seems so small and relatively insignificant holds immense power. I wonder what it is trying to tell me.
    Magi stands and moves towards the door. ‘Hey, where are you going?’
    She flits her eyes towards me briefly before wagging her tail and heading downstairs.
Funny dog.
    I remember what Ama said about Magi being there by the road this afternoon and if I think back Magi has always been there for me—protecting me, comforting me, reassuring me. Now more than ever I know that Magi and I are linked on some cosmic level. It’s as if Ama knows it too.
    I shake myself from my thoughts, resolved to find answers. Building up enough courage I walk over to the dresser. ‘Okay kuthun, let’s get it on.’ I reach towards it and my fingers make contact.

    In a blink I am back in the town square—grey buildings surrounding the circular forecourt with two entry points positioned on either side. This time I don’t panic, and decide that to understand what is happening I must remain calm and focused. Nobody can see me, therefore I can safely look around without being detected.
I take a deep breath
.
    As before there is a disturbing feel to the air. I look at the people around me, all of them dressed in older style garb—women in long dark dresses with shawls and men in long pants and musty day jackets.
    They are all standing collectively among one another, looking toward a distant point of interest. Their faces look gaunt and sombre like they have just survived a harsh winter without much food. Grey clouds loom ominously overhead, giving the forecourt a sense of impending doom. The air around me is permeated by the smell of stale bread, rotten fruit and the underlying odour of sweat.
    After a few manoeuvres that allow me to pass through the crowd I come across the object of their focus.
    The town stage.
    There is an L-shaped wooden structure in the middle of the stage. It has a post jutting out of its top beam and there is a rope strung around it with a noose on the end.
Oh no!
The scene reminds me of the game hangman, but this is no game.
    The crowd begins to heighten their outrage, with raised voices, insults and weeping. An apple sails past my ear, heading toward its intended target. The guards make their way past me, all dressed in black. One is holding an axe, its steel blade glitters as he walks. Between them they usher a woman up the steps of the stage.
    I realise that I am about to witness a hanging.
    I close my eyes and whisper to the winds, ‘Balesa.’ A spell that blesses the journey of the soul to The Other Side.
    The woman turns her face, which is half covered by the hood of her dirty cloak. She stares right at me and I freeze with shock, not understanding how she could be seeing me right now. She doesn’t take her eyes off me. Even while the men are setting her up beneath the post, readying her for her final moments, she doesn’t look away. They pull the hood from her face and I gasp as I take in her features—delicate nose, high cheekbones, long brown wavy hair, and the unforgettable green eyes of the Cole family. Oh my God! I am related to this woman.
    She lifts her head to the crowd in a gesture of pride, still keeping her eyes on me. She is not afraid. You could say she looks almost peaceful, or at least at peace, with what is about to occur.
    ‘Have no fear,’ she mouths to me. She