by Jamie Magee
“I gotta go back again,” Adair said, focusing; now all she could see was Dagen. His hand brushed across her brow, and as it did, she felt a surge of energy, completely restored.
“Now would be good,” she added as she rose to her feet.
“Home you mean,” Dagen said with hard stare.
Brosia came before Adair. “I would have not wished this fate on you. I did what could be done to give you a chance once I understood. Listen to the Voyagers.” Brosia sneered. “The time to break the spells that bind you has arrived.”
Brosia caressed the side of Adair’s face. “Give your father my love.”
Then everything around Adair changed.
Chapter Two
To her horror, Adair’s lungs filled with dark, murky water. She was sure death was calling her name and her mother had fooled her. There was no light, no direction, and the more she panicked, the worse her dread grew.
She kicked and thrashed, not even sure which way was up. When her foot slammed into something hard, she screamed underwater, fearing the worst.
Then she realized it was glass, like a dome, and swam alongside of it, half trying to peer inside, the other simply looking for air.
Twenty-one agonizing seconds later, she found it. The dome had led her to the base of a statue, and now Adair was coughing and gasping for breath as she climbed even higher and clung to the enormous stone wings. She was surrounded by water on every side. And worse yet, she was sure she was not alone—she could feel the eyes of nature on her. There were ripples in the water, and it parted for a massive animal.
In the distance, she could hear people yelling. Most of their words sounded like ‘be still.’ There were cuss words coming from the men and comforting words being yelled by Gwinn. Above it all, she heard Judge, Dagen, and Scorpio arguing about who was at fault and what should be done now. Adair couldn’t understand why a plan of action was in question. Either someone was going to come and get her, or she was going to swim for it—that is, once it was daylight and she could see all things lurking about.
Then she felt him.
Judge appeared right next to her and pulled her into his arms, patting her back as she coughed and then soothing the back of her head as she settled.
Figuring out she was alive and had survived some twisted form of drowning made her feel triumphant, but it was short lived because then her mind flashed over all she had seen, all she knew now. She was doomed. This wasn’t about saving Talley, putting him at peace. It was about finding a way to not be the mother of all things evil, a way to stop this devil who had been a threat to her since before she was even an idea.
Her downward spiral into a well-deserved panic attack was stopped short when she noticed what was all around them.
She flinched, and Judge held her tighter. “Shh,” he cooed as he rocked her. “Jade said to let the souls pass, they allowed Ambrosia here undetected and you to return the same.”
As calm as his voice sounded, she could feel his body tense under hers, see how set his jaw was, she could feel his heart pounding in sync with hers.
Slowly, Adair looked down into the water. Swirling around them in a wide oval were spirits, they were not at peace, but they were not troubled, simply on their path.
Any other time Adair might have found some kind of eerie awe for them, but not after what she had just been through, and not when they were all peering into her as if they knew her, as if they knew it was only a matter of time before she would be with them.
“Get me out of here,” she coughed, hating the taste in her mouth. Swamp.
“We can’t pass over them, Dove. Insolent. Bad Karma. We have no room for such,” he said as he adjusted how he was sitting on the base of the statue and pulled her closer into his grasp.
Shade had told Judge all about what he had seen in these waters, the souls, how they drew up the swords, ones that were clearly spelled. Shade had displayed his for all the Sons. Judge would be a liar if he said they were not all equally proud and terrified for their boy.
So when the spirits first were seen moments before, Judge didn’t think twice about it. He assumed the time was coming near for them to tread by—Adair had been gone nearly the entire night.
Then Gwinn panicked, she said the souls didn’t come this way, only the magic. She feared there was a terrible upset in the balance.
When a witch says such—it’s never a good thing.
What made matters worse was Jade would not say a word. She kept staring forward as if she were watching something unfold. Good or bad, Judge had no idea.
The wind picked up, the howl through the trees was hair-raising. Then they came, the haunting spirits.
Seconds later, Scorpio crashed onto the bank all alone—he didn’t know where Adair was and was frantic to find her. Judge didn’t lose his cool until Dagen appeared empty-handed, looking in every direction for Adair.
The uproar started then as he swore she was right here, he knew she was.
Then Adair’s splash was heard, and Judge didn’t think—he didn’t care what they were all yelling—he went, he appeared at her side. From where he was, he heard Jade telling the others to be calm, respectful, and that if anyone else passed, the spirits would rise and be forevermore haunts.
Judge smirked and shook his head as he laughed.
Adair leaned back and looked in his eyes. “This is funny?”
“No,” he replied, caressing her hair. What he found amusing, or rather rewarding, was hearing Scorpio demanding to know why Judge was able to go to Adair and no one else—wanting to know why the spirits would be passive to him. And the answer he was given by both Dagen and Jade at once was, “They’re the same soul.” Jade followed up with, “They feel her there, and his passing feels no different to them. They are not upset by it.”
Judge let out a breath. “Scorpio is just a bit jealous he can not come hang out with us here, Dove,” he elaborated as he searched her eyes. His good humor left him. He saw scars there—a mark of terror—and was instantly defensive. “What happened?”
Adair nervously looked to the shore. Scorpio was on the phone, more than likely speaking to Talon, beginning to explain to him and those present what happened. He looked right at Adair and sharply shook his head no then looked away right as Judge turned.
Adair didn’t have Judge’s immortal hearing, but she could guess what Scorpio was saying, and it wasn’t that Chalice was a victim. He’d state he was spelled, but that was as far as he was going and as far as he strongly advised Adair to go.
At length, Judge turned to face Adair, and not until he heard all Scorpio had to say.
“She took you there?” His tone was noxious.
“She showed me the witch whom she bartered with, the moment she understood his methods were savage and unpracticed.”
“Zale,” he said before he clenched his jaw.
She nodded shakily. “I’m so sorry, Judge,” she apologized as the gruesome scene played over in her mind once more.
“No. Don’t be. They will be avenged.”
Tears trickled from her eyes, masked by her damp skin.
He cupped her face in his hands as he desperately tried to read her. He’d give anything to steal this memory from her. She may not have known his family, but he knew Adair would feel the pain just as deeply. He couldn’t let her go dark, one of them had to be levelheaded, and it wasn’t going to be him.
Adair bowed her head to hide her tears. She knew his family wouldn’t be avenged. She knew if she failed, if she did not stop this, then Zale would win. Talley would have no control, he’d do the unthinkable, and Adair would give birth to an undefeatable child, one with the soul of Zale within it.
She wanted to be wrong. Needed to be wrong. But for some reason, now that there was space between what happened and now, the words she heard Zale say were sinking in. She understood them.
Adair knew them, all of them. She had never heard them though—she had read them. She squinted her eyes closed, demanding her
photographic memory to tell her when and where, and when it didn’t come, she knew the answer was in her dormant memory.
Pure agony came over her.
If she had time, she could fix this, she knew she could. But she didn’t.
“I vow it, Adair,” Judge swore when he saw her crumbling. “Do not give it another thought, do not dwell on it—promise me.”
Adair moved her head side to side, prepared to tell him everything, how doomed they were. “This evil is bigger than me and you…”
Long moments later, they both heard Dagen ask, “Ready, then?” and looked up see him perched on the massive wings.
His stare seemed to say what Scorpio’s had, “Leave it be.”
“Ready for what?” Judge asked, holding Adair tighter.
“She needs some time with Jade. This could have triggered her trio.”
“Her what?”
“A Voyager trait,” Adair answered, moving to stand on the small base of the statue. Apparently, going to death triggers a time of testing.”
“Now? You want to do this now? We have this deal with Latour in hours—she needs to be locked behind the Boneyard walls.”
“Which is why I’m with her. Go prepare.”
“I’m staying with her.”
“So be it. Shall I tell Talon to make other arrangements for this takedown? I understand stripping their minds before death is a spell that has to be practiced.”
Judge’s glare was lethal. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m telling you it is an hour before dawn and you have to prepare.”
Dagen nodded to the shore, and there, Reveca and King stood with the others.
“I’m fine,” Adair said, patting Judge’s chest. She didn’t want to send him off to prepare for the slaughter of an innocent man, but she needed to understand her options, and she could not do that with him at her side. Clearly, the others had sensed what she had—Judge was a ticking time bomb, telling him he could not have his kill or worse, giving him more to be enraged about, could cause an unpredictable or irreparable break deep inside of Judge.
Judge’s lips brushed against hers just before she reached up and claimed his kiss, a sweet consuming kiss that all but brought tears to her eyes. She kept seeing his grief, seeing what he had to endure, and knew she was going to bring him more of it if she failed. He would lose any humanity he could be asked to have.
Judge pulled away then looked at Dagen. “Where are they going to be?”
“Here, round about,” Dagen answered, glancing to the water.
“You’re not right,” Judge hissed under his breath.
Dagen winked, “Oh, but I am.” And with his words, he reached for Adair and they vanished.
When Adair focused her eyes, she gasped. She was underwater again. This time inside the dome.
The dome reached twenty feet in the air and at least fifty feet wide. If she wasn’t so shaken, she might have taken the time to notice the mysterious beauty of it, but right then, the smell of the swamp was heavy on her wet clothes. She was sure she could still taste it too. Water was not her friend.
“What the hell?”
“Witches. They all have to find their way to connect to nature,” he answered dismissively, looking up at the gators resting on the arch of the glass.
“Witches? I thought this was about Voyagers?”
“They adore elements,” King responded from just behind her, making her jar forward.
King smiled faintly. Then, with a nod from him, fire came to life all around the dome from behind a stone edge, adding a haunting light.
King nodded toward the exotic flowers positioned around the room as well. “Earth, water, and fire.”
“Lacking wind,” Adair mentioned passively as she stared at the water and the fire side by side. Two improbable elements merged.
“Voyagers…they are the wind,” King said, quietly looking over her. “Ever the mystery, they are.”
Adair let out a slow breath. “I’ve got a big problem.”
King and Dagen shared one long glance.
“They’re going to kill an innocent man, and I am going to give birth to the devil.”
Dagen handed Adair a cloth. She already knew what was inside and gripped it with all her strength.
“The blood of the righteous and of the blameless,” Dagen stated. He had managed to grasp Chalice’s bloodstained necklace.
“And I know where a sinner is—Miriam. Who the hell is the impossible? And what do I do with this?” She frantically looked between them. “What spell? And when do I use it? How?”
King glanced down to her gut, then up to her. “I think you need to outsmart the devil.”
“And how do I do that?”
“Timing. If Jade is right, then, before this sun rises, you will be taken by the wind of Kairos. It will lead you to points in time you want to change. It is your test.”
“But Ambrosia already said I could not go back any further than the night Judge lost his family. Was she wrong?”
“I’m impressed you were able to go that far,” King replied with glance to Dagen.
“I only had to help her when we returned. She’s strong.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Adair muttered.
King let out a slow sigh, seeming to choose his words before he spoke them. “The reason the Voyagers sought Brosia was because Zale had hunted them, trapped them for the dark Gods—a sacrifice. I’m sure, somewhere during the time Zale tormented them, he asked one of them to carry him back and forth in time, if only to observe, to know how and when to lay his spell down.”
“I don’t hear any reason to have hope coming from you.”
“I’m not finished,” King said. “Zale knew it was you. He knew who could reach you and knew to keep the Club busy with foolish wars, distracted. Enough so that your father would all but demand Talley keep you separate. Narrowing the time you and Judge had all the more.”
“Now you’re just depressing me.”
“Zale knew you were too young and the pair of you too new to halt his plan—your womb would be vacant and ready for his spell to take place.”
Adair’s eyes grew wide. Shock masked her entire body, then anger set in as she stepped up to King. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. Are you telling me I have got to get knocked up in the next eight hours? Is that even scientifically possible? Do the swimmers not need time to swim, eggs to fall and shit?”
Dagen busted out laughing.
King nearly grinned. “I suppose you’re right.”
“That’s it? That is all you have? I’m right? I don’t want to be right! I should be able to stop this! I have to at least take one grief away from Judge. He will not handle this.”
“Even if you could change his family’s fate, he’s carried the hate too long to undo the pain,” King responded calmly. “The mark is on his soul, the same mark that has followed him into every battle and given him reason to rage the demise that was needed, and sometimes more so.”
Adair moved her head side to side in denial. There had to be a way.
In the distance, Adair heard a screech of metal then footsteps.
“Jade,” Dagen said. “There’s a hatch.”
“This is just freaky.”
“This place is where your power is the strongest, Adair. If you needed something to happen, this is where your intent should be set,” King informed her at length, ensuring every word was clear, pointed.
Jade appeared a few minutes later. Her gaze searched all over Adair. “They should push their trade back, it will be well beyond dawn before this occurs.” She glanced at Dagen. “He pulled her back too swiftly, she never felt real death.”
“Then her time of testing will fall across their tradeoff,” Dagen warned.
“Might be best,” Jade said. “No distractions. Just make sure they do not lock her in a dungeon, the girl should have at least a fighting chance.”
Adair’s mouth dropped open, she would have denied i
t, but she knew it was real possibility that when the Sons went to kill Latour and Chalice, she would be under lock and key, heavily guarded. What she didn’t get was why her doom had anything to do with this—no one until now had said it did, not even Gwinn who was the queen of getting the scoop on what was going down with the Sons.
King nodded and Dagen vanished to give the news.
Adair clenched her jaw then glanced to her hand where the necklace was. “Blood, blameless and righteous—will you ever stop underestimating me?” she asked Jade.
“Never, for when I do, you will stop rising to the occasion.”
Adair smirked. “You’re going to rise to the occasion now. You’re going to get me further back, to the point where I can stop Chalice from ever being cursed.” Adair was sure if she could make it to that point, she could at least destroy the spell, hide it—stop Zale from using it.
“And why would you do that?”
“Why would I not?”
Jade lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe because then you would not be aware of who he cursed then and now. You would not know who was attacking you in the hours to come.”
“If it goes the way I see it, Judge wouldn’t be grieved. Talley and Finley would be alive. I’ll call it a win.”
“Are you so sure?”
“Cut the shit, Jade.”
“Every element impacts another. A Voyager knows it is not the brash moves but the small ones that have the largest impact. You barely have time to weather the small changes you will make.”
“Don’t make this my fault. I did not push the clock. I could blame the Club for blinding me. I could blame my mother for her obsessive mind. Or I can blame you for knowing all of this and doing nothing but fighting with me for five years over a shop.”
Jade leered, pride laced within the gesture. “Unfortunately, due to your mother’s barters, this is the only way it could occur, any other way would have given your enemies time to plan onward.” She tilted her head. “We counted on your wit, Finley did. She put it all on the line for you.”
Adair’s shoulders deflated. “Tell me what to do, Jade.”
Jade pursed her lips before she spoke, her glance moving all around the dome they were in. “I cannot, for freewill is in play.” She stepped closer. “I’m telling you what to expect when the wind of Kairos comes for you. And then I’m going to pray to the powers that be that it not only arrives before your trial but that you have the mindset, and will, to prevail.”