by Jenn Nixon
“Him, your grandfather, Silvio,” Zorin answered.
Cyndra gasped and covered her mouth. “He died.”
“Two weeks ago,” he replied, watching the confusion slip over Rune’s face.
When the note appeared?
“Weird.” Cyndra got up from her stool and retrieved a box from her bag. Zorin’s heart stopped upon seeing the engraving on top. She traced the triangle and the symbol glowed red. “He sent this to me, with the journal and crystal. Do you know what it is?”
“The Caster Crest, it was a way of identifying each other long ago. Rune, trace the circle.”
With a raised brow, Rune reached across the table and ran his finger along the symbol, it glowed a dark greenish-brown. “This box was carved from the trees of our ancestral home…where all the casters originally came from.”
“Which is where?”
“No one I knew had a firm answer, but that history is irrelevant right now, you need to know what happened before and during the war.”
Cyndra sighed as her shoulders dropped. “I guess it’s now or never.”
Rune hid his smirk by nodding his head.
“Casters and humans had lived rather harmoniously over the centuries with no real issues until two hundred years ago. Some humans realized they could use the crystals to siphon its power to strengthen and protect themselves, similar to what I do now. At first, the casters were more than happy to share the crystals and our knowledge. The strongest siphons came to our schools to train, into our communities, our homes. It was a symbiotic relationship for many, many years. As with any group, the casters and siphons grew in numbers. Once any minority gains influence, conflict ensues.” Zorin paused, meeting the eyes of the casters, both of whom were hanging on his every word. Unsure what the truth would do or change, yet aware he needed to tell them everything he knew, he pushed off the wall and craned his neck.
“The beginnings of the war started about sixty years ago. Factions of humans began calling the casters unnatural. They organized, protested, and spewed their hateful propaganda and after thirty years turned the opinions of most humans and siphons against us.” Zorin gazed out the window, fighting back the early images from the war, trying to find less terrifying words to use to explain what had happened.
“Please don’t sugarcoat it, we need to know,” Cyndra said, as if she were in his thoughts. Then she added, “Uh, it means I don’t want him to skim over the hard stuff.”
Ah. I think I get it.
“Sorry, continue,” Cyndra sighed.
He chuckled softly, it was odd hearing someone use phrases and sayings from several decades ago and easily kept his mind from darker thoughts. Zorin turned back. Both casters were staring up at him, waiting.
“Eventually the propaganda turned into attacks. Factions targeted caster run businesses, community centers, and gatherings. The police and governments did nothing to stop these hateful groups, as most were sympathetic to the faction’s cause and helped publicize their message. The casters fought back, which only served to fuel the hatred and lies. The factions manipulated the siphons to work with them to eliminate all of us with true caster powers. They attacked our schools, places of worship, and our homes. Every continent, every country was besieged by constant fighting, caster retaliation attacks, destroying more than just homes and land…families, whole towns, decade after decade. No caster was safe. Some found refuge with people in America, Wales, South Korea, a few other places, but the rift was already too large between casters and humans.” Zorin paused, ran his hand down his face as his body tensed at the images from the war bombarding his mind. “During the war, the strongest casters came here, to this island, to try to find a way to end the fighting…”
“My grandparents?” Cyndra asked, helping to focus his thoughts.
Zorin nodded.
“Who else?”
“Myself, Mergan…whom I will speak of soon, and many others. Together we came up with a solution we thought the humans would accept, and stop the fighting, but they refused to listen.”
What was the solution?
“We were willing to sequester ourselves from the rest of the humans, go back to our roots as one large community. We figured it was the only way.”
And they wouldn’t even listen?
Zorin shook his head. “With no negotiations, the fighting worsened. Casters grouped together and retaliated against the factions with little regard for the loss of innocent lives. The tensions boiled over and the constant attacks on both sides continued and grew more brutal. Mergan, one of our most powerful casters, was working on a new plan. The mansion you saw when we arrived was to be our safe haven from the humans. During the last months of the war…” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his brow. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this.”
“I’ve waited twenty-five years,” Cyndra whispered, gazing up at him with glassy eyes. “Please, Zorin…we need to know.”
“During the last months of the war, a large majority of casters were ready to eliminate every faction member,” he sighed, watching their faces fall. “The factions had the same exact plan for us. Neither side took into consideration the collateral damage that would ensue. Millions of innocent people were going to die all across the planet because of this war, because the factions wanted us all dead. Mergan’s plan was almost ready. The mansion was protected. The week before the flare hit your grandmother came to me, seeking my help to stop Mergan.”
“Why?” Cyndra gasped.
“Her plan wasn’t to eliminate the factions but all of humanity. Billions of people.”
Rune’s jaw dropped. Are you serious?
“Yes,” he sighed. “Mergan already had her protections in place. I was unable to get into the mansion to stop her, but Evelyn did. Somehow, she stopped the flare from spreading beyond what you call the darklands and imprisoned Mergan in the mansion.”
“And then?” Cyndra leaned forward.
“I woke a week later in this room to a changed world.”
“What about my grandmother?”
Zorin frowned.
Cyndra’s eyes welled but she quickly brushed the corners of her eyes. “So the flare came from a caster?”
“Several, yes, they were part of Mergan’s army.”
Why does no one remember this except you? Rune asked, void of accusation.
“I don’t know. You said your father wrote of it? May I see the letter now?”
Rune nodded as Cyndra went to her backpack and shuffled around until she pulled out a piece of paper with frayed edges. She sniffled softly as she handed it over, and then returned to her stool, holding a blank expression on her face. Zorin read the note twice. It didn’t answer any questions only raised more.
“Do you remember your father’s name?”
No, can’t even remember his face. Rune frowned.
Cyndra shook her head. “Something doesn’t add up.”
“What do you mean?” Zorin asked.
“How many casters were still alive near the end of the war?”
“Across the globe? Thousands of us, why?”
“You said only a dozen casters survived. How did we survive and the rest didn’t?”
Zorin furrowed his brow and scoured his memories but the details never came. He, like Mergan, knew only a few survived the flare. How indeed? The longer he thought about it, the more confused he felt.
“Guess we’re not the only ones who don’t understand what’s going on, huh?” Cyndra said with a half-smile, ribbing him for his earlier comment.
Rune tilted his head to the side and lifted his eyebrows. Cyndra shook her head. Rune nodded and widened his eyes.
“Ask, caster,” Zorin said with a sigh.
“Why’d you call my grandfather the Shield? What does it mean?”
“He was able to use his energycasting to mask nearby casters from the siphons and humans. We thought if we stayed here on the island and they didn’t sense any of us, couldn’t find us, the fighting would sto
p. Most of Mergan’s initial plan was only meant to protect us.”
“But then she went off the deep end…crazy, sorry,” Cyndra said with a shrug.
“She was blinded by hatred, similar to the humans. Or so she says—”
“Says? You talk to her?” She jumped off the stool.
“Occasionally, yes.”
Cyndra tilted her head. “Really? She can probably tell us what we need to know.”
“Mergan won’t answer your questions, Cyndra. She’s manipulative, selfish, and evil and has ruined more lives than you can imagine including mine.”
What did she do to…oh shit. Rune frowned.
“Did she turn you into a—”
Zorin’s gaze narrowed.
The female caster stretched to her full height, a couple inches shy of six feet, and met his stare head on despite the fear in her eyes. “I want to see the mansion.”
“Go to the widow’s walk.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head and heading for the stairs. “I’m going there.”
Zorin clasped her wrist and tugged her backward. “Do not wander the island alone.” The heat in her arm increased at such a rate he thought her fingers would catch fire. Instead, she jerked free and continued to the stairs.
“Then I guess someone better fucking follow me.”
Rune was chuckling when he turned back. The caster set his hand on Zorin’s shoulder. I know you’re trying…she is too. This is new and very strange for us. Besides, we’re all a bit scared.
Sighing, he nodded and scrubbed his face, sensing the building power inside Cyndra. She was accelerating at a much quicker speed than Rune, or perhaps he had more control over his emotions, which seemed likely. “Yes, we are. We must find out why everyone has forgotten.”
Good idea, first, we need to catch up with Cyndra.
Zorin smirked. “Come, we’ll glide down if you’d like.”
Nodding, Rune darted toward the stairs and climbed up. By the time Zorin reached the widow’s walk, the caster was standing on the north side, looking out toward the mansion.
It looks like a castle from up here.
“Almost as large as some,” Zorin replied as he approached and extended his wings. He crouched down, motioned to his back. “Lock your arms around my neck.”
Once Rune was ready, Zorin hopped onto the railing and jumped, catching Cyndra’s distinctive energy the instant he hit the air. The caster gripped tighter as his weight settled against Zorin’s back. He circled around the lighthouse twice, giving Rune a few moments to enjoy the ride, and then descended toward the ground.
Rune jumped off the second they landed. With a smile plastered on his face, he craned his neck to look up at the tower. Amazing. Thanks.
Zorin nodded, catching the lighthouse door closing in his peripheral.
Cyndra’s exaggerated huff echoed through the air. “Should have figured.”
You said to follow. Rune shrugged.
“You’re funny,” she replied and approached, not walking ahead this time. “I don’t see a road.”
“There’s part of one on the far side of the mansion, this whole area is the back of the property,” Zorin said as he walked the path casters created in the field long ago. Cyndra and Rune followed, each keeping a step behind until they reached the woods guarding the main part of the property. Cyndra’s pace slowed, but Rune seemed ready to head in. Zorin glanced back to catch her eye and saw the same shocked confusion on her face. He wished their crystal bond was stronger, then maybe he’d know what she was truly thinking. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied, shaking her head.
Unable to stop himself, he moved closer and studied her eyes. “Your expressions say otherwise, caster.”
“You know,” she began then stopped abruptly when Rune neared. She sighed. “I was just wondering why there aren’t any ghostwood trees here. It’s like this island was untouched.”
“Mergan’s protections are among the strongest ever cast,” Zorin said, hating to give his captor any compliment. “Had she not protected the whole island, I would probably be dead.”
“Well, at least she did one good thing, right?” Cyndra said as her eyes roved back toward the lighthouse.
Surprised at her comment, Zorin chuckled, took a step closer, and asked the question he wanted to ask earlier when she stepped off the dock. “Have you been here before, Cyndra?”
“I…” she said, shaking her head as she turned back. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe this Mergan lady knows.”
“Do not expect the truth—” Zorin sensed the mirror-wraiths and spun around. Two appeared behind Rune. The caster’s face drained of color as the wispy black smoke and tendrils of fabric wrapped around his arms.
“About?” Cyndra said then sucked in a sharp breath.
The wraiths jerked Rune from the ground.
Zorin’s pulse tripled as he darted forward.
“Rune!” Cyndra screeched.
The mirror-wraiths dragged the caster into the woods as he fought wildly with all his limbs.
Without looking back, Zorin rushed to the tree line, jumped on the nearest branch that would bear his weight, and climbed to the top. He extended his wings and leaped into the air, catching the wind and soared over the woods. Cyndra’s rapid, lithe dash through the trees wasn’t quick enough to catch the wraiths. He needed to move faster.
Cyndra! Rune’s terrified scream echoed through his mind.
Zorin tucked his wings back and descended, knowing he had to reach the caster before the mirror-wraiths crossed the mansion’s protection barrier. Twenty feet from the ground, both wraiths exited the woods with an unconscious Rune in their grasp. Zorin folded his wings and dove head first toward the closest wraith.
Cyndra burst out of the woods, her fisted hand completely covered in flames, flickering sparks of fire trailed behind as she sped through the wild lawn surrounding the mansion.
The wraiths were too fast. They didn’t cower and flee at his presence. Ten feet from the ground, Zorin stretched his wings to their fullest and altered his direction to the stone pathway upon hearing Cyndra’s footsteps pounding through the air.
When one of the mirror-wraiths released Rune’s arm, the second turned sharply and rose up in the air, heading toward the mansion’s back doors.
“Rune!” Cyndra screamed again.
The first wraith went straight for her.
“Enough,” Zorin bellowed as he swooped down, clipping the wraith with the tip of his wing. The mirror-wraith shrank back, swirled around him, and targeted Cyndra again. Zorin’s pulse spiked despite his heart dropping. The first wraith was beyond the barrier with Rune, and Cyndra was about to cross it. “Wait!”
The woman didn’t slow or make any indication she heard him as she fearlessly bounded over the decorative wall surrounding the backyard of the mansion. The second mirror-wraith followed her. Zorin landed two feet from the knee-high rock wall, shuddering as he watched Cyndra rush up the staircase and onto the stone patio.
“I can’t pass the barrier!” She either ignored his call or didn’t hear it because she didn’t turn or pause. Cyndra, I can’t—
I heard you. I won’t leave him.
You need to get out of there, now! Zorin balled his hands, tempted to bash the barrier regardless of the consequences.
Why? What do these wraiths want with Rune?
Zorin frowned. He had no answer, only the dread he felt. In the twenty-five years he’d lived on this island, among Mergan and the mirror-wraiths, he never had reason to ask. There had been no awakened casters until now. The wraiths guarded the mansion. That was all he knew. I don’t…know.
Well, I’m going to find out.
In the next moment, she darted inside the mansion and the power seeping off her pulsed through the barrier doing much more than energizing him.
Terror ripped through his skin.
When her grandmother had gone into the mansion, she never emerged. Despite the constant bi
ckering, Zorin enjoyed being near Cyndra and the unique Raine energy again. He couldn’t imagine leaving her and Rune after everything he’d learned. Dozens of questions remained. He still needed their help and hoped they survived whatever awaited them inside.
With absolutely no idea what she was doing, Cyndra dashed into the den of the dusty, empty mansion and chased the mirror-wraith carrying Rune through the air like a paper doll. She raced down the east side hallway and zoomed by a few rooms losing sight of the wraith when it turned at the end of the hall.
As she rounded the corner, the wraith floated through a doorway. Cyndra ignored the cramps in her calves and ran even faster, only to come face to face with a wooden spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever.
Halfway up, she heard the gargoyle in her head and inhaled deeply when her whole body tingled with that cool sensation. Although ignorant about this whole caster business, Cyndra knew how to interpret some of her internal instincts. Beyond the normal crystal bond, she shared something else with Zorin that went much deeper. The more time she spent near him the stronger it seemed to get. Having no idea what she felt was reason enough to push it from her mind.
Cyndra, please don’t ignore me. I…am unable to sense either of you inside the mansion.
I’m heading up a spiral staircase, east side.
Mergan’s prison cell is in the top tower. The wraiths may be under her control...Be careful, caster.
Hearing the concern in his projected voice, Cyndra double-stepped the rest of the way, digging deep to ignore the pain and tired running through her limbs.
At the top, she heard the second wraith screeching from behind. She spun in the doorway and directed her flaming hand toward the curve in the staircase. The shimmering face of the wraith appeared. Cyndra flexed her hand and pushed her palm toward it wishing she knew how to throw the flame. Luckily, the fire grew a bit bigger, enough to stop the wraith and make it shrink back for a second.
Then it lifted higher into the air.
Cyndra backpedaled into the hallway and slammed the door shut.
She didn’t wait to see if it could move through wood and went the only way possible, toward a dark narrow walkway on her right.