by K M Charron
He smiled wickedly, and Sydney wanted to hug him. He always backed her up. Langston didn’t always understand her, but Jax seemed to.
“Besides the crucial fact that if we get caught, the Directive will likely bind our magic or lock us away, have you forgotten that each time a witch uses Black magic, a mark is left behind?” Khourtney inquired. “Don’t you listen in class? That kind of darkness leeches into you and the space around you. We haven’t even reached our magical peak, and you want us to risk depleting ourselves?” Her quiet, disbelieving voice was jarring.
“Would you rather save up all your precious power only to be killed?” Syd snapped. “This is not the time for hesitancy. It’s coming after us, all of us, including our families. We can’t sit back and wait. We have to draw it out, and if that means using dark magic, so be it.” Her words were final, and the rest of the room knew it. They could hate it. They could rail against it. But if they were going to survive, this was how it had to happen.
Ava ran her hands through her hair. She always groomed when she was worried, an unconscious way to self-soothe. “This is exactly why we need the Elders’ help.”
Heat pulsated through Syd. She was up on her feet and in Ava’s face in seconds. “I know you don’t care about my mother’s vendetta against me, or that when she learns that I helped a middling open a magically-bound door that let out a supernatural entity bent on revenge, she will destroy me—literally. But what do you think she’s going to do when she learns that you knew a potentially deadly shapeshifter is on the loose and you didn’t say something immediately? How do you think she—and the rest of the Wildes—will react when they find out that Justin told a middling—who appears to be immune to all forms of magic, no less—about our existence?” Sydney turned her back on Ava and walked away. "If you want to face her with all of that, and put your best friends’ futures in jeopardy at the same time, be my guest.”
Ava's dark skin paled, and she dropped into a shattered heap on the floor. In a cracked voice that Syd had never heard before, she said, “We really are in this alone.”
The silence in the room answered for all of them. Sydney could hear her heart beating in the stillness.
They spent the next few weeks waiting for the shifter to surface, yet everything remained far too quiet. If possible, the silence from the entity was even creepier than its presence. Every noise, every movement out of the corner of an eye, every middling who approached them had them looking for signs that they were facing an imposter. But nothing suggested its continued existence in the area except for the animal corpses that still littered the forest.
Syd spent her little free time trying to find dark magic strong enough to raise Saskia’s spirit. Necromancy was forbidden, and The Directive had scared most witches away from ever using that kind of magic or sharing their knowledge about it, but Syd knew the information they needed was out there somewhere. They just had to find it, which would prove difficult since they couldn’t simply walk up to a witch and ask or pop into The Raven’s Eye for a how-to book.
They kept tabs on the shifter the only way they knew how, by doing regular off-trail group hikes through the forest, exploring different sections to see how many dead animals they found. There was a steady number of bodies, but no discernible pattern. Sydney would’ve happily believed she’d imagined the whole mess to be some twisted nightmare if it weren’t for the eviscerated corpses.
Despite the quiet, Syd was far from celebrating. The entity was weak from being locked away for centuries, but she knew it was only biding its time, getting stronger, still wanting revenge. A shiver ran up her spine as she remembered fake Max’s eyes. The way it looked through her. Maybe this was part of its game, and it knew exactly who and what she was but needed the strength to attack.
How long would it need to feed before it finally struck?
The waiting was taking its toll. Sydney was on edge all the time—snappy, emotional, and tired. She no longer got a full night’s sleep, awakening from graphic dreams, or jolting up from the movement of tree branches outside her window. Her studies, both middling and coven, were suffering, and she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to hold herself together.
They had an Elemental magic test in an hour, and she was certain she’d conjure hail when she meant rain, fire instead of wind. She wasn’t ready in any way. How would she get through it? She couldn’t be sent to Gerald, not now, not when everything was at stake.
Dragging herself through the back entrance of the Nest, Sydney met the others in one of the unoccupied classrooms. Since Justin was an Elemental magic witch, she wasn’t surprised to see that he was giving some of the apprentices a last-minute tutoring session. The surprise was that he hadn’t bothered to invite her.
She barged in. “Thanks for thinking of me.” She slammed her bag on the nearest table. “You know, I’d like to pass, too.”
Ava dropped her hands, and the ball of ice she’d been suspending fell to the ground, shattering with a loud crash. “Don’t be so damn sensitive! We didn’t plan it. We all showed up early, so we decided to practice. Not everything is about you.”
Syd noticed that Langston wasn’t there. Maybe Ava was telling the truth.
“We’d better get to the Main Hall and change into our robes,” Justin said, coolly. “It’s going to be roll call soon, and I don’t want to face my grandmother if we’re late.”
Máthair Sage Lautner, the Master of Elemental magic, was leading the night’s testing. Sydney ran through the spells in her brain, trying to remember which spell went with which element. The knot in her stomach tightened with each step closer.
When they entered the Main Hall, she saw most of the apprentices already dressed in their emerald robes, chatting away. A few of the other Elders and Masters were in attendance, most notably, Máthair Bello. Didn't she ever take a night off? Sydney swore that she watched just so that she could judge all the other apprentices as crappy, sub-par witches who couldn’t live up to her precious Langston. Syd loved Langston, but he wasn’t exactly at the top of any of their classes. In fact, when she wasn’t choking under the pressure of an exam, Sydney was a far stronger witch than he was. She suspected this fact was a significant part of the reason that Máthair Bello didn’t much care for her.
Máthair Lautner donned an exquisite crimson robe with sleeves that faded into orange and then yellow. They symbolized fire—one of the deadliest elements to master. She wore her inky black hair cropped in a short bob that rested just under her ears. Her dark brown eyes swept the room.
The apprentices went silent as the sacred chime echoed through the Hall. When the last reverberation ceased, Máthair Lautner drew her hands out to her sides and offered up a prayer to the goddesses of the elements, giving thanks and homage for their guidance and generosity. She believed that the goddesses controlled the elements and that they allowed witches to harness nature’s energy. Sydney wasn’t so sure, but there was no way she was going to voice such an opinion. She wasn’t stupid. While Máthair Lautner was much kinder than Máthair Bello, she was deadly serious about her beliefs.
Lowering her arms, Máthair Lautner beamed, seemingly coming back to herself. “Welcome. It is my great honor and privilege to oversee your testing tonight. You are the future of this coven, and I am delighted to be a part of helping you in your journey to becoming Lords. Tonight will be challenging, but I have every confidence that you will triumph.” She stopped to look into the crowd of nervous apprentices, moving from face to face. Her eyes met Sydney’s with a slight nod of warmth and encouragement. That tiny gesture was more than her mother had ever given her. Sydney’s throat, thick with emotion, unnerved her, and she immediately controlled the reaction. The skylight above them allowed the clear, starry night sky to infiltrate the Hall. The moon, high and bright, shone down on them like a blessing. Syd prayed it was a sign.
Máthair Lautner unfurled the cream-colored scroll and began roll call. When she was halfway down the list, she called for Jake Wyatt
. The hall remained silent.
Syd glanced around for him, as did everyone else. Langston and Jake’s best friend, Jeremy Killen, was also missing.
“Has anyone seen Mr. Wyatt?” Máthair Lautner asked with a concerned tone.
No one was late for testing. It didn’t happen. If they weren’t here, there was a damn good reason. The image of the eviscerated deer appeared in Sydney’s mind. Her throat filled with bile.
Murmuring spread quickly throughout the room. A ripple of converging emotions filled Sydney—confusion, irritation, satisfaction, and fear. She was grateful that the magic witches possessed muted their emotional energies and, therefore, her intuitive ability. Otherwise, it would incapacitate her at times like this.
“Jeremy isn’t here either,” Cara Anders called out. Whispers rattled around the room as everyone began to gossip.
“If anyone knows where they are, come forward,” Máthair Lautner commanded, her voice was uneven.
“No!” Máthair Bello doubled over, her hands clutching her stomach. Her face twisted into a grimace. Lifting her hand to the moon, she shouted, “Langston! Where is my nephew?”
Adrenaline coursed through Sydney as she watched Máthair Bello contort and wail. The connection in some witch bloodlines was so strong that one could feel when a family member was in pain or danger.
“What is it?” Syd called out, not caring that she was speaking out of turn. “Is Langston okay?”
“Something is happening to him.” Máthair Bello’s frantic face paled as she gaped and groaned, immobilized.
A loud crash reverberated across the Main Hall, causing everyone to look toward the stone staircase. Jeremy, ashen and shaking, beads of sweat running down his drawn face, yelled, “It’s Langston. Hurry! We need help!” He bolted back up the stairs with the same ferocity he’d flown down them, not waiting to see who followed.
Máthair Bello broke free from her shock and raced behind him. Sydney and her friends began to move, as well. The remaining apprentices exchanged anxious glances, unsure of what to do.
At the base of the staircase, Máthair Lautner stretched her arms out, as if to hold the apprentices back from following her. “Wait here. You are not to leave the Hall, do you understand?” Confused but obedient nods met her forceful command.
Sydney’s body tensed as a torrent of panic took hold of her. Her breathing hastened, and her heart thrummed so powerfully in her ears that she felt deaf. She couldn’t sit back and do nothing, not when it came to Langston. With a quick burst, she sprinted past Máthair Lautner and up the stairs. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw.
Langston and Jake writhed and screamed on the ground, pinned by a dense, churning fog that wound itself around their bodies.
The fog. It was the one that had flown past her out of the underground door, the one they’d released.
The boys wailed as though they were being burned alive.
She screamed, but no sound came from her raw, dry throat. Raising her hands, she tried to tap into her instincts to conjure an attack spell. Máthair Lautner appeared at her side. Sydney’s mind blurred her magic, spells moving in and out of focus, terror blocking her from remembering the words.
The fog moved swiftly, obscuring Langston and Jake. Máthairs Lautner and Bello hurried to either side of it. Hands out, they began attacking the fog. Electric pulses flew through the air and hit the mist with blurs of gold and blue. Despite their efforts, the boys’ tormented screams continued to punctuate the air.
“It’s not working,” Sydney cried. Forgoing memory, she prayed for instinct to kick in. She held her hands out in front of her, willing the magic to flood into her fingers. Warm tingling moved down her arms and into her hands. Syd motioned to Jeremy and nodded. Together, they sent blast after blast into the swirling, gray-white mist. Currents of magic wrapped around the dark cloud, and Sydney watched for any sign that it was weakening. Despite the attack, the fog kept pulsating around the boys, seemingly unaffected.
This is my fault.
Gritting her teeth, Sydney cleared her mind and mustered all the power inside her and assaulted the fog again. A piercing squeal ripped through the air. Her strands of magic thickened and intensified; she could feel the vibrating heat flow down her arms and out her fingertips. It took all her strength to hold steady. Her power was merging with her fellow witches, and the fog thrashed in response.
“Don’t let go!” Máthair Bello shouted through the turbulence.
Sydney’s arms shook as she fought to keep steady. The shrieking intensified, ringing inside her head. She struggled to keep the current of magic flowing despite the head-splitting pain.
In her periphery, Syd watched Athair Windsor fire a flash of white into the fog, causing a roar that sent Sydney to her knees, her hands covering her ears.
The misty fog started to recede. The dense mass twisted in the air, swirled into an angry ball that hovered above them. Syd closed her eyes and reached for any drops of magic she had left. Lifting her palms, she sent a blast of purple electricity into the spinning fog. A piercing howl shook the sky, and it flew off into the night. Sydney fell to her knees, breathless and faint.
She forced herself to push past the seductive exhaustion. She took a few precious seconds to gather herself. “Are they okay?” she called to the Elder witches assessing Langston and Jake. When no answer came, she crawled across the grass to where Langston lay motionless.
“He’s breathing, but he’s very weak,” Máthair Bello said. “Quickly, we must get them inside before it returns.”
Máthair Lautner and Athair Windsor grabbed Jake under his arms and pulled him toward the Nest’s door twenty feet away. Sydney’s strength rebounded just enough to help Máthair Bello lift Langston. They were all physically spent from the fight.
As they pulled the boys across the grass, Justin, Jax, and Penelope appeared. They hastily grabbed the boys’ feet and hurried them down the stairs.
Langston’s body was burning up in Sydney’s grasp; sweat soaked his skin and clothing. “He’s not moving!” she cried in panic.
“Get them on the sofas,” Máthair Bello instructed.
“It burns!” Jake clutched his torso as if he wanted to rip off his skin and yank out his organs. Other hands held him back, protecting him from himself.
Turning her attention back to Langston, Sydney put her hands on either side of his pale face. “Wake up,” Sydney demanded, anger in her voice. She refused to lose him.
Langston let out a huge gasp as if he’d just surfaced after being caught under a riptide. He screamed, and his body thrashed.
“What’s happening to him?”
Máthair Bello passed her hands over him, moving them up and down the length of his body, reading him.
Syd slid her trembling fingers to the neck of his jacket and unzipped it, yanking it open. He was scorching. “Jeremy, tell us what happened,” she barked at the boy pacing in a circle beside her.
He stopped but wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Jake and I were walking from the main building on our way here when we saw Langston talking to a middling named Kai, but then it looked like they were fighting.” He appeared suddenly stricken at whatever memory was surfacing. “Kai’s body… It just collapsed. It was like his skin…” He stopped, scrubbing a hand over his face. His pupils were huge, and he didn’t seem able to concentrate. “His skin just kind of melted off.” He swallowed hard like he was fighting back sickness. “It literally dropped off of him, Syd! It fell to the ground in a pile.”
Máthairs Bello and Lautner exchanged bewildered, terrified glances. Máthair Bello yanked her hands away from Langston. “Something’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Syd demanded. Just then, Langston passed out, his head lolling to the side.
Máthair Bello stood and moved in front of Jeremy in a flash, grabbing him by the shoulders. “After Kai’s body disintegrated, what happened? I need to know everything if we’re going to help him.” Her voice was steel, cutting through the haze he
was in.
“When Kai’s body dropped, Langston freaked and tried to back away, but then this heavy fog appeared and began swirling around him. He tried to fight it off, and I,” he began to cry, “I thought Jake could use magic to keep the thing at bay, but it must’ve also gotten him when I ran for help.” He sank to the floor. “I’m sorry I left them. I’m so sorry.”
Máthair Bello edged Sydney out of the way, and Sydney let her—despite her urge to take charge. But who was she kidding? She had no way to help. Máthair Bello was a Master, after all. Surely she could fix this.
“Come on, open your eyes,” his great-aunt begged.
Langston’s eyelids fluttered. He wasn’t conscious for more than a second before he began flailing in pain again.
Sydney rushed back to his side. “You’re safe now.” She clutched his clammy hand in both of hers. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Guilt washed over her. He wouldn’t be laying here if it hadn’t been for her stupidity. She’d known the symbol on the door was magical. Why did Ainsley refuse to leave? None of this would be happening if they’d left well enough alone.
Langston’s head swiveled, and he calmed slightly, seeming to realize where he was. Máthair Bello bent over him.
“Aunt Isme,” he whispered, sounding nearly breathless.
Desperate, Syd asked Máthair Bello, “What’s causing them so much pain? I don’t understand. They look fine.”
Langston clutched at her suddenly, gritting his teeth. “It burns. Make it stop.” The muscles in his face quivered, and the veins in his forehead throbbed.
Jake groaned and whimpered from the other sofa; Máthair Lautner tried to comfort him.
Sydney looked back to Máthair Bello. “Can you fix them?” her voice was high and panicked.
Máthair Bello’s dark eyes, usually vibrant and wise, now seemed dull and frightened. “They need to rest.” Straightening, she turned to face the room full of apprentices. “All of you, proceed to the Armory.”
In the chaos, Sydney had forgotten they had an audience, but she wasn’t going anywhere. They’d have to drag her away if they wanted her to leave Langston’s side.