Blood Prophecy: Kallen's Tale

by Bonnie Lamer

  “If you don’t stop laughing at me and answer my question, I’m going to blow you up next.”

  She is beautiful when she is angry. I cannot keep the amusement from my voice as I answer her question before she really does lose control and unintentionally blow me up. “The average witch would be the gentle summer breeze. The spell would have been cast, the mojo bag would have been properly stored for future use, and the Witch would have gone on her merry way. But if you replace the gentle summer breeze with a tornado, you create a spell so large, that it cannot be contained by a tiny little leather pouch. Therefore, instead of being stored, the spell is cast out. And where a normal Witch would have created a thin wall around herself, your wall is a hundred times thicker and needs more space. To make room, it removed all obstacles except for those you specifically told it not to harm.”

  “Oh.”

  The Witch spirit finds her voice once again. “Are you saying that she can’t perform spells? She is half Witch.”

  I see she is taking her shock out on me with her snippy tone. “No, I am saying that the outcome of a spell that Xandra casts will be a hundred times greater than it was meant to be.”

  “And you couldn’t have said something before she worked the spell and destroyed the living room?” Her snippiness is becoming anger.

  I tilt my head and raise my brows. “Would you have believed me if you had not seen it with your own eyes?”

  She wants to be mad at me, but I have taken the oomph out of her argument. I can see the disappointment in her translucent stature. After a moment, she finally admits, “No.”

  The Angel begins to stir. Putting her hand to her concussed head, she attempts to pick herself up off the floor, to no avail. She must have injured her ankle. She sits back down and shakes her head in awe. “So much power in one so young is dangerous,” she says to the room.

  I believe in the future she will be a bit more willing to believe me. “I did warn you,” I points out.

  A tiny, self-deprecating smile forms on her lips. “Yes, you did. But my pride wouldn’t listen. I’m lucky that it didn’t get me more than a twisted ankle and a headache.”

  I shrug. “If it had been a truly dangerous spell, I would not have let you teach it to her.”

  Xandra puts her hands on her hips and glares up at me. What did I do now? “What do you mean, you wouldn’t let her? Just because you were the first one to teach me things doesn’t mean that you have full rein over my magical education.”

  My eye brows and my hairline become one. “And what basis from your vast magical experience will you use to determine if a spell is safe or not? It makes more sense for someone who is versed in Witch magic, and has experienced your magic first hand, to determine the ramifications of a spell spoken by you.”

  I am not sure what message she is trying to convey when she scrunches up her face, but she is beautiful when she is annoyed. “You know, my father is right over there. I don’t need another one.”

  My voice becomes husky as my lips curve up into a smile. “Believe me, I have no desire to be your father.” The blood rushing to her cheeks tells me she has no problem understanding my message.

  Her father clears his voice, bringing us back to our surroundings. “Yes, well, now that you’ve established that you only have one father, I’ll give my opinion. I believe Kallen is right. He has the best idea of all of us what you are capable of, so he should have final say in what spells you do.” I try hard not to laugh when she includes her father in her glare. “But, before any of that is decided, we need to figure out what we’re going to do about the door and window. It gets awfully cold in these mountains at night.”

  I can fix both. I give Xandra a pointed look, as I say, “Of course. If Xandra will let down her wall, I can reverse the damage she has done.”

  The Angel looks doubtful. “You are able to perform reversal magic?”

  I resent the disbelief in her voice. “Yes, I am.”

  Xandra looks up at me in confusion. “Can all Fairies do that?”

  I shake my head and I cannot miss the hunger in her eyes as she stares at me. I wonder if I look that enraptured when I look at her in unguarded moments. Probably. Maybe even worse. “No, it is quite difficult to perform reversal magic. It requires a lot of power and refined skill. The only other Fairy I know who can do this is my Grandmother.”

  She purses her lips as she digests that information. A sudden change in her demeanor tells me an idea just exploded inside her head. “So, you could have reversed the avalanche and the rock slide I caused?”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “You created natural disasters on a grand scale. There is no magic strong enough to reverse that. Now, as impressive as it is that you are holding this wall in place for so long, without another magical mishap, I cannot reverse the damage until you let it go.”

  She gives me a sour look, but she begins to concentrate on letting the magic go. An odd smile touches her lips, causing several of us to raise a brow in her direction. “Care to share with the rest of us what is making you smile so?” I ask.

  “No,” she says in a singsong voice. Then, she closes her eyes so she can focus on what she is supposed to be doing. At first, she is making a little headway. Her magic is beginning to sink back to the ground. That does not last long.

  It does not take me long to realize that she is losing control in a monumental way. I call out her name, but she does not hear me. I even try shaking her, to no avail. Damn it, she is lost in the magic.

  “Kallen, do something,” her mother says to me. Yes, because I have not already thought of that.

  Her magic is reaching a crescendo, and the oxygen in the air is beginning to spark. Actually, spark is too mild of a word. Little bursts of flames are appearing out of nowhere as her magic sets the air on fire. Pulling as much magic as I can, I throw it at her. Her only response is a small smile that I do not believe has anything to do with what I am doing. I wish that I could tell what is going through her mind at the moment.

  My magic is hitting a solid wall but I keep pushing. I will not back down, regardless of the line of fire where our magic meets that is trying hard to burn the house down. I can hear the Angel saying a spell behind me.

  “Element created from magic untamed, burning, boiling, all in flame, with measured magic I fight in kind, the soothing flow of water will bind.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see a pail of water appear in the woman’s hand and she begins to fight the flames, her pail constantly refilling.

  “Jim, you have to leave,” the Witch spirit is telling her husband. “It is not safe for you here!”

  “I am not leaving you here, Julian! If I go, you go.” The Cowan spirit is holding his ground. He is taking an ignorant stand, but I do admire his courage.

  “Jim, I have magic to protect me. This fire is moving into our plain like a knife through butter. I can defend myself as Kallen attempts to help Xandra, but I cannot keep both of us safe and the house as well.”

  I hope that I never feel as helpless as Xandra’s father looks at this moment. He wants nothing more than to protect his wife and daughter, yet he has no weapons for which to do so. Finally acknowledging that fact, he gives his wife a grim nod and disappears through the wall.

  Xandra is feeling my magic now. I push harder, using every last bit of magic I can pull, until I finally feel her pushing back. Now, I need to be conscious of my own safety. An inferno of fire is headed my way as Xandra’s magic betters mine. It is coming perilously close. This may very well be my undoing.

  Finally, I feel her magic stutter, for lack of a better word. She is trying to take control again. The fire is only inches from me now. I feel the ends of the black hair falling over my brow begin to singe. I keep pushing, even as smoke begins to rise from my unruly hair.

  I fall to my knees when her magic suddenly pulls back. The fires are fizzling out, just as my strength is. Xandra’s magic is gentler, pushing lightly. She is in control. I can stop pushing. Slowly, we both push our m
agic back to the earth. Without the house exploding. Or anyone dying.

  Chapter 4

  “You did it,” the Angel says, dousing a spot on the curtains that has flamed again.

  Xandra drops to her knees in front of me. She looks so sorry, I cannot possibly be angry with her, though I can tell she expects me to be. Smiling as widely as I can at the moment, I say, “Always interesting around you.”

  A nervous giggle escapes her lips. Placing her hand on my cheek, she asks, “Did I hurt you?”

  Other than draining me of most of my strength, fortunately not. I turn my face slightly so I can kiss her palm. “Not this time. But you have tired me a great deal. I have endless pity for whomever you release that magic of yours upon.”

  Her mother breaks in on our tender moment. “Xandra, are you alright?”

  Xandra turns her attention to her. “I’m fine, Mom. Dad…?”

  “He’s fine, I sent him outside when it all began.”

  Xandra’s eyes are back on me now. “When what began?”

  She is not going to want to hear this. I place my hands on her shoulders, wanting to pull her close, but I refrain. “When you began to turn the air to flames.”

  “What?! I did not.”

  Our relationship would go a lot smoother if she would stop arguing about the things that are fact, not up for debate. Trying to get more oxygen inside of me, I pause before responding to her. It does not escape my notice that the other two in this room have chosen this moment for silent introspection. “You did. You pulled so much magic around you that it was competing for space with the very molecules of the air. You created an imbalance.”

  Her pallor turns green. “You said only black magic practitioners create imbalances.”

  I shake my head. “No, I said practitioners of black magic create imbalances on purpose, to draw as much power as they can. You created an imbalance because you temporarily lost control of your magic. It is not the same.”

  Doubt remains in her eyes. “Why did Dad have to go outside?”

  Well, this is not going to make her feel any better. “Because the imbalance you created did not only affect our plane of existence.”

  “How could I affect another plane of existence while in this one? They should have been safe, shouldn’t they?”

  Her mother shakes her head and explains how her plane of existence is close to ours. “If Kallen wasn’t here…” She shakes her head. “This is all my fault for keeping so much from you. We all would have been safer if I had taught you the ways of magic as you grew up.” Obviously. Too late to change things now.

  Xandra’s eyes come back to me again. “Am I that dangerous?”

  Finally, she is beginning to understand. “Yes."

  Her face falls as reality sets in. Placing a hand under her chin, I lift her face so that I can see her eyes. “But, you are learning control. It was not me who brought you back from wherever your magic had taken you. You did that. I only lessened the damage while you took control back. And now, I can reverse the damage.” Hopefully, I have still have the strength for that.

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  I force my legs to push me up from the floor. I am a little unsteady on my feet, but I try not to show it. I hold my hand out to Xandra and she places hers in mine. I pull her up next to me. I would like nothing more at the moment than to pull her down the hallway off the kitchen, to her bedroom, and sleep for the next week. Well, sleep eventually.

  I believe it wise to send my thoughts in a different direction. “Perhaps you could make your grandmother a cup of tea while I clean up.” I expect her to be angry that I am asking her to do such a mundane thing, but she is not.

  She sends a weak smile in her grandmother’s direction. “Would you like tea?”

  The Angel’s smile is brighter. “That would be lovely. I’m afraid using magic tires me out quicker these days than it used to.”

  Noticing the woman’s distinct limp, Xandra goes to her and assists her to the kitchen. Her mother goes to check on her father. I am alone at last, able to focus on repairing the damage. I assume a lotus position in the middle of the floor. This type of magic takes a lot of concentration.

  In my mind’s eye, I imagine the room as it once was. I have to imagine everything coming back together, molecule by molecule, piece by piece. I am not simply fixing the room with magic. If I did that, I would have to sustain that magic for the room to stay intact. As soon as I sent the magic back to the earth, the magical repairs would disappear with it. I am reversing the magic that caused the damage to begin with. I am erasing its effects.

  As I sit here, willing the repairs, I cannot help but wish that I could imagine the furniture as something a bit more appealing, but it is not my house. The red couch is horrible, though. Regardless, I imagine the brown carpet, then the furniture that was here before, and then repair the damage to the walls. It takes much longer than it should because I am so tired, but it all falls into place eventually. There is no trace of Xandra’s destructive magic in the room. If only I could do this when she is using her magic.

  I am even shakier on my feet than I was before. I stumble slightly as I walk to the kitchen and have to lean against the wall to hold myself up. I seem to have missed something, because everyone in the room looks guilty. Or angry. Or both. At the moment, I decide I do not care what is going on. “It is done,” I say to the room in general.

  “You look like you should be lying down.” As crappy as I feel at the moment, I appreciate the concern on Xandra’s face.

  Her father echoes her sentiment. “Are you alright?”

  I nod. “I will be fine if I rest for a short while.” I would like to add, curled up around Xandra. That is probably asking for too much.

  “Why don’t you take him to your room so he can lie down?” her father says to Xandra. Looking pointedly at her grandmother, he adds, “I think you could use a little time away from our guest, as well.”

  Xandra does not hesitate to grab my hand and practically drag me down the hall to her bedroom. I like her enthusiasm. When we are in her room, she closes the door as I flop down on her soft bed and close my eyes.

  “Are you alright?” she asks.

  I open one eye to look at her. “I would be much better if you were lying here next to me.”

  She laughs as she lies down next to me. “I guess that means you’re not too tired.”

  Grabbing her waist, I roll us until I am lying on top of her. I hold my weight off from her with my elbows. “Perhaps I am faking fatigue to have a few stolen moments with you.” Not true, but I am finding myself to be less fatigued by the minute. “It is amazing how you can make flannel sleepwear look good.”

  Now she looks embarrassed as she looks down at her attire. She groans. “I guess we should get dressed.”

  There is no way I am going to let her up at this moment. “Soon,” I say, nibbling at her lips. She wraps her arms around my back and pulls me closer, kissing me in a way that makes me want to take things to a whole new level. One hand buried in her silky black hair, I let my other hand explore, eliciting soft moans from her.

  “You are so beautiful,” I murmur against her lips. My body is pressed so close to hers, she is supporting my weight. She does not seem to mind. When her hands begin to roam, it is my turn to moan. She is driving me insane. I want to remove all obstacles currently keeping us from joining as one.

  And that is the thought that brings me back to reality. We are not hand-fasted. And her parents can travel silently through walls. I am not sure which is the biggest impediment against us making love, but it really does not matter. The outcome is the same.

  Dragging my lips away, I lean my forehead against hers and try to get my breathing under control. My body is having problems agreeing with my decision to stop things. It very much wants to keep going. “You are going to drive me to distraction. Perhaps your father was not wrong in insisting that I act like a gentleman. For I find when I am this close to you, I want to be anything b
ut gentlemanly.”

  Her sexy smile does not help calm my body down. “And I don’t want you to act gentlemanly.”

  Growling loudly, I roll away from her and close my eyes. She is trying to kill me. “You are not helping. My restraint is precarious at best right this moment. I prefer not to have your father find us in a compromising position.”

  Rolling up on to her side, she begins tracing small circles on my chest. Her voice is husky with passion, as she says, “Fine. And you thought you were the only one who’s irresistible.”

  How little she knows of her many charms. But, I do not want her to get a big head. I open one eye and say, “No, I did not. I am fully aware of how irresistible you are. Otherwise, I would be back in my realm being adored instead of here where you do not do nearly enough of that.”

  It hurts when she pinches my chest. I flatten her hands against my chest as both of my eyes open and I try to look serious as I say, “Ouch, why would you do something so mean?”

  “I’ve heard enough about your Fairy groupies for the day.”

  I laugh. “You are even more beautiful when you are jealous.”

  I smile I do not like creeps onto her face. “You know, I haven’t given the whole groupie thing a try. Maybe after we take care of Grandpa, I should explore that option. You do make it sound appealing.”

  I do not know if I am beautiful when I am jealous, which I am at just the thought of her being with someone else. I roll her over onto her back and say, “I prefer your adoring crowd to be limited to one.”

  It is her turn to laugh. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to make me jealous, but you can’t take it?”

  I certainly am not going to admit to that. “I am not jealous. I simply believe you have too much on your plate right now to think about locating and keeping the interest of a male harem.”

  A simpering smile touches her lips. “Harem? I like the sound of that.”

  I guess the only way to end this conversation is to kiss her into silence. And I do. Deeply. It is quite some time before either of us speaks again. When we do finally part, she says breathlessly, “Okay, maybe I don’t need a harem after all.”