The Kuthun Read Online Free PDF Page B

smiles gently, accepting her fate.
    The only sound I hear is the swinging of the axe through the air as it connects with the rope, releasing the trapdoor beneath her feet.
    It only takes a moment. She is gone.
    My hands have found their way to my mouth, covering it with unspoken horror. Tears fall for the woman that shares my blood. I close my eyes.

Chapter 4
    I am thrust back into my room and crumble to my knees, my mind struggling to regain composure. Which of my family did I just watch hang to death? I watch my silent tears fall to the floor.
    This all has to mean something.
    Ama’s words come back to me. ‘There are some things you must find out for yourself.’
    Great! Wouldn’t it just be easier to have it told to me, or to have it written in some “Witch’s Guide for Dummies” handbook?
I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to calm down.
    I take a deep breath and slowly getting back onto my feet I search the room for an answer. My eyes then fall upon the most obvious solution…the computer.
    Well at least it’s a start
.
I acknowledge that teleporting back in time is significant somehow
and decide to make my first point of focus scouring the internet for anything that mentions amulets and time travel.
    I walk over to my desk and make myself comfortable.
    ‘Okay, here we go,’ I mumble. I type in kuthun and amulet and a few Wiccan sites appear, explaining that a kuthun is an object passed down from a dying witch to another, in order to pass on the power.
    Ama said the same thing. Although I know that amulets are usually used to deflect negative energy, generally a protective object. But this definitely isn’t deflecting, it’s attracting. Although it hasn’t harmed me and does keep me hidden from view
.
    I scour through heaps of sites which all seem to say the same things. None of them help me understand the charm that I have in my possession, and none of them explain time travel.
    After a while my brain starts to tire at the repetitive information that keeps coming up. I decide to start writing about the two events back in time that occurred earlier today, so as to keep a log of sorts. This way I can track where and what happened and maybe I can figure out the why later. I recall Mum saying, ‘Ellie, feel your way through life as much as you can. Through feeling, you will be truly listening to your intuition.’
    As I am busy typing about what it all felt like I hear the front door open.
    ‘Hello! Ellie, we’re home!’ Uncle Jo shouts from downstairs. I hear the door close, the sound of rustling bags and Uncle Jo’s boots echoes upstairs.
    ‘I’ll be right down!’ I yell back, a little perturbed by the intrusion. I resolve to come back to the computer later as soon as time allowed. I log off reluctantly and turn to head downstairs.
    But I stop mid-stride.
    Every fibre of my being starts to buzz. When this happens it feels like I am hooked up to an electrical outlet—the static energy ripples through me.
    Someone is here
.
    I quickly turn around expecting to find someone standing behind me but no-one is there. The air around me stirs—swirling, building—and on it I hear a voice, ‘The truth you seek already resides within you. Seek the light and all will be revealed.’ As soon as I hear it, it is gone. The room is still and silent, albeit from my own quickened pulse.
    ‘What truth?’ I ask to the air around me, my breathing ragged and uneven. I stand there waiting for some kind of response but I’m met with a deafening silence.
    I hadn’t heard my uncle come up the stairs. He’s standing in my bedroom doorway, watching me silently.
    ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
    I try to act normal. ‘Yep. Just thought I had a spider on my back,’ I say, trying to laugh off my unusual behaviour, while dusting my back off from the invisible attack.
    I must be giving myself away too easily as he gazes at me skeptically. ‘So, do you ask spiders what the truth is often?’ He has a slightly amused look on