by J. Kowallis
I turn my back on the two experienced hexens and stalk into the kitchen, allowing my face to finally exhibit the “deer in the headlights” look I’ve been trying to disguise as strength and fury. With just a few snaps and a wave of my hand, I pick up the conjured Indian food that’s piled high on my plate. In the throes of my irritation and complete shock that I just yelled at my dad and Coll’s foster mother, I give them a final look of defiance, despite their narrowed eyes and tight faces, before stalking up the stairs and into my room.
Finally secluded once more, I set the plate of piled rice, vegetable coconut korma, and three large pieces of naan on the floor. With a snap of my fingers, I summon the fork that I forgot, and I sit down, with my back resting against the edge of the bed frame.
Down below I hear the voices of my dad and Angie. Neither of them is argumentative, but quiet enough that I can’t make out what they’re saying through the confines of my room. While I could cast an auditory amplification spell, I just don’t want to.
After taking a deep breath, I start digging into my food. I didn’t know how hungry I was until the first bite enters my mouth. I moan and shovel more in, ripping off pieces of naan and scooping up the spicy, sweet food.
Behind me, I hear my phone vibrate from the top of my mattress. At first, I ignore it, focusing solely on feeding my anxious stomach.
It buzzes again.
And again.
Finally, I reach around with a full mouth—still trying to chew away—and wake up my phone with the touch of my finger. Three messages. From Sera.
What happened last night?!
I don’t mean to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you never told me. After spending time with Coll, do you think there’s something wrong?
I just ask because he’s been short and rude with me today. Every time I talk to him. He told me to leave him the hell alone.
I realize now that I never shared my suspicions about Coll with Sera. And now, I have confirmation that she was right all along. Something was wrong with him. For one, he’s not even him.
I tap on my screen and begin to text her back.
I’m sorry, Sera. I forgot to get back with you.
I pause, thinking about what I’m going to say to her.
I think Coll’s fine. But there might be a chance that I offended him last night. Things got a little out of hand. I’d love to have lunch with you and catch up! Are you available tomorrow?
I send the message, my heart pounding. I feel horrible for lying, but I can’t guarantee that anything I say to the Donovan girls is safe. Even via text. As if everything I might say to them is being watched. I don’t know what abilities Coll has when it comes to magically spying on his sisters, but I can’t believe that his walking in on our initial conversation with them was only coincidental. Especially now that I know he’s Ruhmactír.
Really? You think he’s alright? I guess that’s probably good news.
Lunch sounds brilliant. Where would you like to meet?
I think through my response. If Coll is somehow magically watching everything his sisters do—everything I say to them—I need to meet with Sera in private. Where he can’t listen in.
Actually, how about dinner? Tonight. I can meet you at your place. You can help me think of ways to smooth things over with Coll. Help me figure out how to respond to him.
Only a few seconds go by before I receive:
Be ready in fifteen.
Sixteen
I take my time shoving another mouthful of Indian food in my mouth. I just want to finish this first. After all, I’m not actually going to Sera’s for dinner.
A knock sounds at my door and I pause, swallowing my food before lifting my hand and snapping my fingers. The door slowly swings open wide, Dad standing on the other side, his face firm but not filled with the disappointment I saw just minutes ago.
“Yes?” I ask, leaning back against the bed.
“Angie and I have been talking,” he slowly gets out. “First and foremost, you need to understand something. While you are learning a lot, your experience is minute in comparison to both Angelica and I.”
I bite my tongue and wait for him to continue.
“There’s also something else you should know. The reason why Angie is so scared of that book.”
“Yes?” My tone comes across a bit more languid that I intend, but inside, my curiosity skyrockets.
“Angie believes that Hellia’s grimoire killed Coll’s parents.”
My fingertips go cold. A book? The book killed them?
“How?”
“The same way you could have died today. I told you Michael found me because he was looking for the staff, and somewhere in his search, he found Hellia’s grimoire. One night, he opened it up. The night he died. Angie, uh . . . Angie found it open on the kitchen table when she went to get the kids. That’s how she came to own it. She did the best she could to repair any rift between the spirit world and ours, but whatever she did was just a bandage.”
“Dad, I . . .”
“That said,” he interrupts me, “we also acknowledge that you’re right.”
I swallow, feeling uncomfortable.
“I’m right?” my voice breaks.
“You are the one putting your life on the line. It is you in the prophecy and because of that, your word should have more influence in the decisions we make. But,” he forcefully adds, “when Angie and I give you a warning, there is always a reason behind it. If you ever go behind either of our backs, lie, steal, or act without us again, you may be abandoned to act on your own for the rest of your life. Our lives—” he runs a hand through his silvered black hair, “everyone’s lives. However long that may be.”
When he looks back at me, I press my lips and nod. “Then I should tell you something. After I finish eating, I’m headed out to meet Sera.”
“What for?”
“Now that I know the spell for, well, exorcising Coll, I think it would be a good idea to bring Sera into it.”
Dad folds his arms. “I thought you didn’t want to put her and Emilia at risk. I thought you wanted to be the one in control.”
“I do, and I do. But Sera should know who Coll is. If she were able to watch her brother with the understanding that he’s not who he claims to be, she may hear things, see things, catch things that will help us. She may not have her powers, but she’s still hexen. And that’s worth investing some trust.”
He nods. “What do you need from me?”
“Some space. And faith.”
With another bob of his head, he steps away from my door. He opens his mouth once to say something else but decides against it. A wave of his hand tells me that he’s not going to stop me. Then, he jogs back down the stairs.
I take the next ten minutes to finish my food and pray that it doesn’t give me a sore stomach after eating that fast. It then takes two seconds to grab my purse and summon my shoes onto my feet. I stumble forward a little, thrown off balance by the additional half-inch height of my heel.
Tiaseal, the word runs through my mind. Before I know it, I’m standing on the simple doormat outside of Sera’s apartment that says “Welcome” in elegant script. I knock a few times and then stand back. When the door opens, Sera gives me a genuinely relieved smile. Relief that, I’m sure, has something to do with the fact that I recently told her, her brother was just fine. A touch of guilt starts to grow in my stomach because soon I’ll have to shatter that relief. Either that, or the food is starting to bubble inside me.
“Taran!” she smiles wider and takes a look at my shirt. “Guns ‘N Roses. I love it. Are yeh ready?”
I return the grin and nod. “Absolutely. You’re alone tonight?” I ask, looking behind her shoulder.
“Oh, yes. Emilia’s on a date with some new man she met on Tinder, and Coll took a flight early this mornin’ to New York.”
“Flight?” I raise my eyebrows. “I’m surprised he didn’t just travel on his own. In fact, I’m surprised he’s ev
er used an airplane.”
“He enjoys the time it gives him to get work done while been’ waited on hand and foot. Plus, in the past—” She stops mid-sentence and she skews her mouth to the side. “I shouldn’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“Well, in the past, he also liked to find stewardesses—dates—on the flights. Target practice, if yeh will. Not that he does that anymore, mind yeh. And if he had to ride economy, he’d never set foot in an airport.”
I force a smile. “Sounds like Coll.”
She groans and her face drops. “Ack. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ‘ave said that.”
“No,” I reassure her. “It’s okay. Actually, before we go, can I use your restroom?”
“Sure.” She offers a small smile and welcomes me in.
I step around her, holding onto the strap of my purse over my shoulder. Keeping my mouth shut, I hold up a finger to my lips, hopefully communicating to Sera that we both need to stay quiet. She frowns and looks around her apartment as if someone is watching her, but she easily understands what I need from her.
“Where’s the washroom?” I ask, looking around.
Sera widens her eyes, confused.
I beckon for her to answer while I pull a bundle of sage from my bag.
“Um, it’s that door. Right behind yeh.”
“Thank you, I’ll be quick.” I wave my hand over the bundle of sage and ignite the end of the dried herbs. The flames are bright for a moment before I snuff them out, leaving only a thick curling trail of gray smoke. Just as I’d done in my room the other night, I waft the bundle of sage toward the corners of the room, every opening, every inch of space I can get it to flow. Sera follows me around her small one-bedroom apartment, her arms folded, watching with curiosity. When I’m sure that the entire space is treated, including the bedroom, bathroom, living area, and kitchen, I rest the still-smoking bundle in a bowl sitting on one of the surfaces in the living room.
I stand in front of it, closing my eyes. The spell that follows seems to rise and lace in with the smoke dancing in the air. When I finish talking, I wait for just a few silent moments before turning to face Sera.
“All right, now that we’re completely alone, we need to talk.”
* * *
Sera leans back in her seat, her arms holding her ribcage. I told her everything. I told her about my suspicions after seeing Coll here in her apartment, about the work Angie and I did to find the dry potion that we used to test Coll. Even everything that happened on my date with him the other night and what he did. Now, she sits here, staring at the grains of her own carpet and breathing slowly.
“He’s not Coll, then?”
“No. I have reason to believe he’s possessed by your ancestor. Ruhmactír.”
“And,” her voice is small, “this Ruhmactír is . . . can we get him out? Can I get my brother back?”
“Yesterday I found a spell. One that promises to remove Ruhmactír from Coll, and hopefully without any permanent damage.”
At that, her eyes flick to me. “Permanent damage?”
“I’ve never participated in an exorcism like this. Hell, I’ve never participated in any exorcism. So, I don’t know what will happen to Coll, but from what I read, it’s the only way to remove your ancestor’s soul from your brother’s body.”
Sera shakes her head, her eyes searching my face. Her mouth hangs open before she finally speaks. “Yeh told me he was fine.”
I lean forward, my heart racing. “I had to say that. I think Coll’s been listening in on you and Emilia. Well, not Coll, but Ruhmactír. I think he magically keeps tabs on you and has been for the last few months. That’s how he knew you were meeting with me the other day. I don’t think he’d leave anything to chance. Which is why I’m not either. The sage spell—”
“Oh, the sage spell, the sage spell,” she lashes out with a darkening voice. “I told yeh. I told yeh our family was better off without magic! Coll knew it too. It’s why he bound me and my sister’s powers.”
“Coll bound your powers to protect you!” I match her rising voice. “Everything he’s done is to protect you.”
“Wrong!” She lashes out. Her lip quivers and she fights back tears. “Everything he’s done lately is for you.”
I dig at the cuticles on my fingers, absentmindedly as I hold my breath. For me? For me?
“Look,” I say, my voice noticeably softer. “Whether it was right or wrong. He chose it. If he thought magic was so evil and horrible, he would have bound his own, but he didn’t. Now, we’ve been through this argument before. It ended with you shutting the door in my face and telling me never to call you again. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not relive that particular discussion.”
Sera’s nostrils flare. She tucks a strand of her golden blonde hair behind her ear and struggles to control her firm breathing.
“I know you’re upset. I know you’re scared. But lashing out at me, lashing out at hexen craft,” I correct myself when she opens her mouth to argue, “is not going to fix anything. After all, people without the craft have done a fine job of obliterating others and destroying lives. Cruelty, selfishness, and a disregard for life is not a new concept. Not among hexens, and certainly not among human beings. If you need something to blame, blame the actual problem: your asshole ancestor and his bitch of a wife.
“Now,” I continue to stare her down, keeping my voice steady and calm, “since that conversation is over and won’t be brought up again, I need your help figuring out how to get Coll alone again without looking suspicious.”
Sera looks at the carpet again, crossing her legs slowly. She breathes in and exhales. “I’m sorry,” she says.
“For what?”
“For gettin’ angry.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology.”
“I know. But I am sorry.”
I nod. “Thank you. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
Hearing the jesting tone in my voice, Sera offers a rueful smile and shrugs. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem gettin’ him alone again.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well,” she cocks her head, “I don’t know about Ruhmactír, but I can tell yeh that Coll, well, he told me once before that yeh were not like other women. He said he felt at home around yeh.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“I don’t,” she says with a small voice. “Emilia and I don’t let him get away with shite. Every other woman in ‘is life bends over for ‘im. And I don’t mean just metaphorically.”
I hold up a pleading hand. “I don’t need to hear that.”
“Sorry. What I’m tryin’ to say is, yeh haven’t tried to give ‘im what he wants. Or, what yeh think he wants in order to snatch ‘im up. Can I show yeh somethin’?”
“Show me what?”
“I’ll be right back.” Sera stands up and quickly jogs out of the living room into the small, single bedroom. I hear things clatter and shift around and when she comes back out, she’s holding her cell phone. She stares at the screen, walking slowly until she reaches the chair again and collapses down into it.
“I want . . . yeh to read somethin’. Coll sent me this the night before he came back all wrong.”
I frown and reach out to take the cell phone from her extended hand. The night before he went wrong. That would have been the night he and I were studying in the university library. I turn the phone around in my hand and look down at the text on the screen.
Holy shite, Sera-bear. I know I said I hate this woman, but holy shite. I might get myself into trouble with this one.
What do you mean? Sera’s answering text sat directly below that. The next message was simply:
She takes my breath away.
My lips part and my vision becomes a little blurry. A sound, something between a sigh and a whimper catches in the back of my throat and I cough to clear it away. Silence creeps in over us and I just sit there, gaping at the bright screen of the phone, and those words as
I become unsettlingly aware of my own unforgiving heartbeat. With a trembling hand, I slowly pass the phone back to Sera.
“He said that?” I ask, almost whispering.
She nods, setting the phone on the armrest of the couch. “I’m sorry I told yeh to leave us alone. I was so scared.”
I take a deep breath and dab at the corners of my eyes. “I understand.”
“I knew he was fallin’ for yeh. He never fell for anyone. None of ‘em. So, if this Ruhmactír is tryin’ to be anythin’ like Coll, I know he’ll speak to yeh again. He’ll be desperate for it. Tell me, what exactly did he say to yeh when he texted?”
I pull out my phone and open the message Ruhmactír last sent me, offering the device to her. Sera takes it from me and frowns. “Yeh sure yeh want me to read it?”
“Well, you just shared something much more private, and actually meaningful and personal. Remember, it’s not really Coll talking. This is neither private nor sentimental to me.”
She nods and starts to read.
“Wait,” she stops suddenly. “Did he just tell yeh he loves yeh?”
“Still Ruhmactír talking. Not Coll.”
“Yeah, but . . . with what—”
“Sera,” I cut her off, feeling a pain in my chest. “It’s not real.”
She studies me for a time—why, I don’t exactly know—then goes back to the text. When she finishes, she looks up, and hands back the phone. “I can’t believe he just swore on da’s grave.”