by Casey Bond
“I invited you. Remember?” He tried to smile. “The invitation was never rescinded.”
“So I can just waltz back in here whenever I’d like?”
“Yes, and I hope you do so often.” He watched my thumb move back and forth in lazy circles. “Your things are still in your room. I started to have them sent to you a dozen times, but never did.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind.”
“It wasn’t that,” he admitted. “I just kept thinking if I left them there, you might come back for them. Selfishly, I wanted to see you.”
My heart cracked. “I thought about leaving you a token, spelling something so you could use it to reach me if you needed to.”
“I wish you had,” he said, his voice breaking. “How am I supposed to get through this day?”
“One minute at a time,” I answered.
He nodded and wiped a tear from his cheek. “It just might be possible with you here.”
The crack in the wall around my heart widened.
Folded neatly in my trunk was a dress I’d never seen before, but the moment I saw it, I knew Mira had made it. She either knew I’d come back here for him to mourn his father, or had spirited it here. I wasn’t sure which.
I brushed my teeth and showered quickly, towel-drying my hair before combing it and twisting it into a bun at the nape of my neck. The dress’s fabric felt like silk, but slightly thicker, with a pebbled surface. It fastened at the back of my neck, was sleeveless and fitted at the top, and flared slightly from the waist. The dress was black until it hit my knee, where it bled into the Kingdom’s signature dark teal. Lying in the trunk beneath the dress were matching teal heels and the box containing the necklace Tauren had given me.
I slid the heels on and secured the necklace, skipping the makeup still arranged on the bathroom counter, then walked back to Tauren’s room. I knocked twice and waited until he eased the door open.
He stepped out, locked his room, and slid the key into his pocket, offering me his arm. Ever the gentleman, and not because it was proper, but because he was just a good man. We met his mother, Knox, and Leah at the bottom of the staircase.
Annalina wore a simple black dress with a matching sheer veil draped over her head beneath her golden crown. Knox was dressed in a crisp black suit and Leah wore a simple black pencil dress. The couple held hands and stood closely together. The Queen handed Tauren his father’s thicker, matching crown. “Would you place it on his casket?” she asked.
Tauren nodded, accepting the golden circlet. Knox pulled away from Leah and threw an arm around Tauren’s shoulders and tugged their mother close, the three sharing a hug before taking a moment to compose themselves.
It was time for the service to begin.
Guards pulled the main doors open when the Queen gave a nod. When they parted, it looked like the entire Kingdom sat on the lawn outside. The rows of chairs situated on the grass were filled, but mourners flooded the palace lawn in every direction as far as I could see. Dressed in black, those who had been sitting stood to honor the Queen and Princes.
Lucius’s teal casket sat on a golden stand at the bottom of the stairs with a spray of roses in every color arranged on the glossy wood. I could smell Ivy’s magic mixing with their floral scent.
Tauren escorted his mother as Knox ushered Leah and me down the steps. The Queen paused at her husband’s casket, taking mine and Leah’s hands as Tauren and Knox stepped forward. Tauren placed Lucius’s crown on top of the floral spray.
The crowd was silent, but I could feel the weight of every breath being held.
Annalina gave me a wobbly smile and let go of my hand. “Go to him,” she whispered, before walking to one of five reserved chairs situated just in front of the casket.
I walked to Tauren, who stood in front of his father. His shoulders began to shake as he cried. I slid my hand into his and he gripped it tight as he fought the desperate sadness that death left in its wake.
Knox’s silent tears were just as heartbreaking. Leah stood at his side, her arm around his shoulders.
When the two princes were ready, the four of us took our seats beside their mother.
The service was beautiful; the sermon delivered was poignant. And at the end, Tauren, Knox, and four of the King’s personal guards hefted his casket on their shoulders and carried him far across the lawn to a small cemetery. There, amongst the Kings and Queens who came before him, Lucius was laid to rest.
I stood with Tauren as the casket was lowered into the ground, and as it was covered with earth. I stood with Tauren as the crowd thinned until only he, Knox, Leah, and Annalina remained. When they were ready, the five of us walked back to the palace.
I stayed with Tauren that night. As we held each other, I told him what Ethne had revealed about Bay. Together, we cried for the loss of our fathers. We cried until we were exhausted, and then we fell asleep in one another’s arms.
Mira came for me the next morning. I was needed in The Gallows.
27
Mira and I were sitting in my room as she helped me pack the trunks. “You could stay,” she suggested half-heartedly. But we both knew that wasn’t an option. I couldn’t live in the palace indefinitely. Not only would it bring shame to our sector, it would cause the Kingdom to whisper about Tauren. If they didn’t already believe it, they might think we were lovers.
“The longer I’m here, the less I want to go home,” I admitted.
“If he placed a crown on your head, you could.”
I closed the lid on the trunk I’d been situating. “He can’t do that.”
Mira regarded me for a long moment. “I’ll wait on the palace steps while you say goodbye.”
I thanked her and watched her walk out of the room, then I peered around at the stack of locked, packed trunks by the door. Tauren promised to have the Courier deliver them soon. I could’ve spirited them home, but he insisted.
Tauren stood just outside my room. He pushed off the wall when he saw me exit. I walked to him and returned my key.
“Thank you for staying, Sable.”
“You would’ve done the same for me.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgement.
Tauren stared at me for a long moment, ponderous words lying just beyond his lips. I brushed a dark strand of hair out of his eyes. He gently caught my wrist, bringing my hand to his lips for a parting kiss that made the moths flutter in my stomach, despite the dread I felt from leaving him again.
“I left something on the bed for you. If you need me, you can reach me.”
His eyes flicked to my door. “Thank you.”
Tauren walked me down the hallway, down the staircase, and out the door where Mira was waiting patiently. He thanked her for coming and she hugged his neck, expressing her condolences.
She grabbed my hand. With one last look at my prince, we disappeared.
Much had been done to rectify the damage to the earth Ela’s absence had caused, and the Gallows was abuzz with excitement when we returned. At the week’s end, our fallen Priestess and Priest, and the new Priest and Priestesses, along with Ethne, who had survived the unthinkable, would be honored in an Affinity Battle that promised to be both entertaining and poignant, a celebration of endings and beginnings. And while it was refreshing to think that life was still moving along despite all that had happened, it was also a bit jarring. I’d just watched Tauren bury his father. Then I left him… again.
Brecan asked me to take part in the hand-fasting ceremony that would take place after the Affinity Battle – but as the Guardian only. The Circle had agreed to release me from the mandate that I hand-fast to someone this year, or any other year. The decision to do so would be mine to make when, or if, I chose. Like Brecan had promised, I was now revered.
That, too, was jarring at times, though it wasn’t at all unpleasant.
&n
bsp; Arron was increasingly enamored with Mira and made excuses to visit her House at every opportunity. He was shedding his nervousness like a too tight layer of skin. If she needed something, he volunteered before anyone in her House had the chance. He was a full-fledged resident of the House of Fate now, but was hardly ever there, thanks to his crush on my friend. I had the House mostly to myself… again.
Watching him pine over her was sweet.
It also made my chest hurt.
The morning of the Affinity Battle, Arron and I dressed in black pants and shirts. The two of us couldn’t fight with water, air, fire, or earth, but we had other tricks up our sleeves.
There were no rules, other than to gather as many crystals from the steps of the other Houses as possible – by any means possible, except for spiriting. No spiriting was allowed. That would be too easy, and the battle would be over as quickly as it began.
I tied my hair back and Arron bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, peering out the door in the direction of the House of Water. “I’m not a good loser, Sable. Do we need a plan?”
“A plan? There is an endless amount of possibilities to consider all the moves the other witches might throw at us.”
“What good is it being a fate diviner if you can’t cheat?” he teased.
Ignoring his taunt, I asked, “Is Mira ready?”
“Everyone is in the Center but us and Brecan’s House.”
That was odd. Brecan was always punctual, if not early.
I checked my reflection and walked outside with Arron. He seemed unusually antsy as his slitted eyes narrowed on our competition. We were vastly outnumbered, but had skills no natural witch possessed. “This will be intense.”
“But we’re going to win,” I vowed. “I never thought I’d have a chance to participate. We have to show them we’re equals.”
“So, no pressure?” he asked sarcastically.
I suddenly noticed he’d shaved off his midnight black hair. “I like your hair.”
He quirked a brow. “I didn’t want my vision to be obscured today.”
I stifled a laugh.
“What? This is a battle, right? Battles are fought to be won.”
“It’s only a game,” I advised with a grin. He could’ve tied it back or worn a hat, but the short hair suited him somehow. Mira certainly thought so. From across the lawn, she kept Arron trained in her sights. She’d smile or address whomever asked a question, but then her eyes inevitably drifted to him.
Ethne, Ivy, and Mira met in the Center. I searched for Brecan among the crowd, but he was nowhere to be found.
The witches gave their Priestesses the honor they deserved by quieting immediately. Ethne smiled. “Brecan is placing crystals on each step.” I turned to find him behind me, placing obsidian on the top step of the House of Fate.
His footsteps were silent as he rushed around the circle of houses placing the crystals, and then slipped through the crowd to join his counterparts.
“To your Houses!” Ethne announced.
Arron and I returned to our lawn and watched the other lawns fill with witches. The Air witches were the most populous, the lawn barely visible beneath their feet. The Fire witches looked like they were ready to do battle. They stared across the Center, their plan of attack probably running through their minds.
“So, do we have a plan?” Arron asked.
“Yep. Steal the crystals from the other Houses while guarding our own.”
“Inspiring, Guardian,” he smarted.
“Let the Affinity Battle begin!” roared Ethne. She threw her arm down and the battle began.
It was slow at first, each House tentative in their strikes. We were outnumbered, so the House of Fate couldn’t afford to be tentative. Arron poured his clouds into the Center as he ran toward the House of Fire. Brecan’s Air witches quickly used their affinity to form a funnel from Arron’s clouds, a second too soon. My cover blown, the Fire witches caught me on their step.
They realized I was there too late, though. I clutched their hematite stone in my palm and ran as fast as I could, but not before I felt the heat of a hundred flames on my back.
“Fate has the Fire stone!” Brecan yelled.
The stone shot out of my hand, flying into the sky and bursting into a thousand tiny cinders that rained down over the Center. The smell of burning wood filled the air and the lingering smoke hovering overhead formed the shape of a flame, sigil of the House of Fire.
The contest was not over. It had only just begun, but it felt good that Arron and I had made the first strike.
Mira used her power to dehydrate everyone but her charges. Earth, Air, and Fire witches flopped on the ground uncomfortably, like a pond of fishes with too little water. Familiar with Mira’s talents, I’d blocked myself and Arron against the onslaught. With bubbles around us, he tried to distract Mira by catching her eye and luring her into a chase. She laughed as she chased after him, forgetting her dehydration spell, while I crept toward Air.
“Oh, no. I don’t think so, Sable,” Brecan warned. He recovered from Mira’s magic quickly and sent me flying into the air. Suddenly, the light of day disappeared and all became night as Arron’s clouds lassoed me and brought me to the ground.
“No one messes with my Guardian,” he teased Brecan.
Brecan hopped a ride on a jet stream and landed in front of Arron.
The Fire witches claimed the Water witches’ crystal, celebrating as they jogged safely back to their lawns. Mira was livid.
A fountain of water exploded overhead, raining down onto the lawn and everyone on it. The briny scent of the sea hit me and immediately jolted a memory of Tauren holding me in the sand, moments before the world fell apart at the seams. In the air, vapor hung in the shape of a single cresting wave, the sigil of the House of Water.
Arron held out his hands, unsure what else to do as Brecan advanced on him. Whispering a spell to blur reality, everything began to melt. People, our Houses, the trees, the fountain in front of the House of Water. The world oozed like ice cream on a scorching hot day.
Brecan held his hand out in front of him, watching it drip to the ground. “What is this?”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” I marveled.
“I have a few new tricks up my sleeve,” Arron said with a friendly wink.
Sensing Brecan’s discomfiture, Ivy took over. All the witches grew tall, stretching toward the sky like peeling, knobby birches. My nose sprouted into a long, skinny branch and my fingers became trees. The Earth witches turned into lumbering stone soldiers, marched to the House of Air, and snagged their crystal.
Brecan roared at their blatant thievery as his Air witches fought to free themselves, but they remained helplessly rooted to the soil.
A fierce wind tore through the Center, the fresh scent cleansing our sweat-soaked skin. Dried leaves were torn from branches, rushing into a pattern that formed three distinct waved lines over the Center, the sigil of the House of Air.
The wind blew Ivy’s timber curse away as well. The witches gasped to be free and immediately began to fight with torrents of air, torrential rain, walls of fire, and metal called from deep within the earth by the Earth witches. It bubbled up from fissures, cooling and solidifying once again.
Arron locked eyes with Mira and the two of them teamed up. She called forth a dense fog and Arron made the light of day fade into total darkness. The combination made it impossible to see. “Arron, guard our obsidian!”
“I’ve got it,” he promised.
I sprinted through the dark fog to the steps of the House of Earth and scooped up their emerald. Just then, the fog and darkness faded and daylight pierced everyone’s eyes. Pine needles formed the shape of the tree that bore them before falling to the ground, their astringent scent permeating the air. Arron let out a hoot and announced, “Fate takes the Earth crystal
!”
He was still celebrating when he realized, too late, that our obsidian was in jeopardy. He tried to fight Brecan off, but my best friend managed to grab our crystal and held it aloft victoriously.
Brecan let out a victory roar and threw our stone into the sky where it exploded into millions of sharp, black wishbones. They covered the lawn in a thick layer before Ivy instructed the earth to absorb them so everyone could walk comfortably.
“All the crystals have been stolen,” Ethne announced, soot and a sheen of sweat covering her face.
Brecan laughed, clapping Arron on the back. “You are a warrior, friend.” He took Arron’s hand and held it up high. “The House of Fate is victorious!”
Witches from every House applauded. Arron bowed as I strode across the Center to join him on our lawn. My hair was a damp, snarled mess thanks to the Water and Wind witches. I was sooty and somewhat singed, thanks to the Fire witches, and pine needles littered my hair, thanks to the Earth witches. But I couldn’t stop smiling. I grinned until my cheeks ached.
“The Memoriam celebration will begin at sundown,” Ivy announced. “Ready yourselves, and we will feast and enjoy this reverent day. Then, as we wait on the winter season to approach, we will finally rest. Come spring, all will be set right.”
In my bedroom, a magnificent velvet gown hung from a hook on the washroom door. I twisted it around on the hanger to get a better look. The back was open to my waist, the front high enough to conceal my collarbones. I vowed to thank Mira for making it.
“Someone put a suit in my room!” Arron hollered from the room he’d claimed upstairs.
“I have a dress!” I yelled back.
“Goddess, she is wonderful,” he marveled. Mira truly was.
He drew a bath and when he was finished, I drew mine. We had been working on upgrading the aged plumbing, and now had running water in every washroom. The pressure wasn’t as forceful as the palace’s, but it was a million times better than washing with a tub and pitcher.