by Grace White
“Don’t worry,” Amalia adds. “We’ll plan our next hit in Wednesday’s meeting.”
The four of them launch into a debate about Prank Wars, but I tune out, letting my eyes drift around the room. I can’t sense any of the guys, but I feel something rippling in the air. Centering my thoughts, I search for a thread to latch onto.
“Terra… Terra?”
“What’s the matter with her?”
“Terra?”
“Ter—”
I blink at Amalia, shaking the fuzziness from my head. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” her expression asks me a silent question and I purse my lips.
“I’m not feeling so good, I think I have a migraine coming on. In fact, I’m going to head back to the dorm and lie down.”
Concern flares in Claire’s eyes. “Oh that sucks. Let us know if you need anything.”
“Sure, thanks. I’ll see you all later.” I excuse myself from the table, grab my bag, and hurry out of there. Whatever I felt, whatever I latched onto wasn’t good.
Pushing the door to the cafeteria, I shove it a little too hard in my rush and hear a “Whoa,” from the other side. “In a hurry?” Omar—Cael’s friend and teammate—smiles down at me. “Hey, aren’t you Cormack’s girl?”
“Friend.” I correct, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. “I’m Cael’s friend.”
His brows knit together as he studies me. “Sure, friend. Whatever.”
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” I say, hitching my backpack up my shoulder and barging past him.
I can’t breathe. Whatever happened back in the cafeteria isn’t over. I can feel it: licking my insides, running through my veins.
“Hey, wait,” he calls, but the words roll off my back as I battle through the stream of bodies until I burst out of the student center and into the fresh air. Sucking in a long breath, I give myself a second to calm down. Out here, I feel better. But it’s still there, the bitter taste of evil on my tongue.
What is that?
A deep shiver rolls up my spine and I take off in the direction of Earhart. I need space to figure out what just happened, and there’s no chance of that here, in the middle of a busy campus. Arriving at the dorm, I head straight for my room. But I don’t make it. Rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall and into one of the stalls, I make it just in time for my lunch to make a reappearance. Acid burns my throat as I retch and retch until a fine layer of sweat coats my skin and my insides feel jellied.
After flushing the toilet, I slump onto the tile and inhale a string of deep breaths. In the past, I’ve experienced headaches and nausea during one of my ‘trances’, but never this. I know I should tell the guys. But they already treat me like I’m Bambi. If they know that things are getting worse, they will never let me out of their sight. And I can’t live like that. Not when I only just started living my life.
I stand with a groan, walk over to the basin and wash up, splashing water on my face. My stomach already feels better since purging whatever I felt in the cafeteria. Checking myself in the mirror, nothing seems physically out of character. My violet eyes shimmer back at me. Glossy waves frame my face, contrasting my porcelain skin. I’m the same as I’ve always been.
But I’m not.
She’s there, under the surface. Her power grows every second of every day. I feel it, running through me. And part of me wants to embrace it, to take everything she has to give. But the other part… the other part doesn’t want to carry the weight of the world.
Because what if I fail?
What if I can’t overcome whatever darkness the Oracle foresaw?
My grandmother always said I was destined for great things, but what if, in the end, I’m destined to be the downfall of Earth?
What then?
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Harry kicks off the wall to the old drama building and stubs out his cigarette. I shrug, refusing to engage him.
After hiding out in my room for the afternoon, I finally brushed myself off and decided to embrace my destiny. But that means I have to be able to control my power, and to control it, I need to understand it first. And something tells me Amalia, Harry, Violet, and the others, are the ones to show me.
“Harry, play nice,” Amalia says before disappearing inside.
“I always play nice.” Sarcasm drips from his voice but I let it roll off my back. Maybe later I can singe his eyebrows or something. I smirk to myself, surprised at the fire in my belly. My default setting is to retreat from confrontation, but he ignites something in me. Or maybe it’s Gaia. Maybe it’s her strength fueling me. Either way, I make a promise to myself never to let him get the upper hand because, for as much as it pains me to say it, right now, I need him.
“Terra, you came.” Greyson, and Violet are waiting just inside the auditorium. “And here’s me thinking we probably scared you off last time.”
“I don’t scare that easily,” I say rolling my shoulders back. Violet’s eyes linger in my direction before she heads down the stairs murmuring something to herself I’m not sure I want to hear anyhow.
“Good to know.” The blond-haired, well dressed guy slings his arm over my shoulder and guides me down the stairs. “I’m glad you’re here,” he leans in and whispers.
“At least someone is,” I shoot back, and he flashes me a bright-white grin.
“They’ll come around. We need you.”
“So I keep hearing.”
“Sorry,” a voice calls from the door and I glance back to see Carlie and Carrig. “We stopped for supplies.” She lifts a brown bag in the air as they begin to make their way down to us.
I watch with interest as Violet begins marking the points of the pentagram with candles. Harry helps, the two of them working in silent synchronicity as if they’ve done it a hundred times before, which they probably have. After a couple of minutes, Violet announces, “We’re ready. Terra, we need you in the middle, if that’s okay?”
“I, hmm.” I glance to Amalia and she nods reassuringly. But it’s Greyson who approaches me.
“It’ll be fine,” he says. “Here you’ll need this.” He hands me a black robe identical to the one he’s wearing, and I slip it on over my sweater.
Carlie and Carrig are already in position on the point they share, Harry and Violet too. Amalia walks with me and Greyson, waiting for me to reach the center of the five-pointed star before taking up their places.
“We’re going to call the quarters,” Violet says, waiting for my reaction. But I give her nothing as I hold her cool gaze. “You don’t need to do anything other than stand right there, okay?”
I nod, and the six of them hold out their palms by their sides,
Guardians of the East, of Air and Wind,
We call on you to protect this circle, to bind its magic and keep us safe.
A gust of wind sweeps through the auditorium and a chill rushes up my spine.
Guardians of the West, of Water and Rain
We call on you to protect this circle, to bind its magic and keep us safe.
Guardians of the North, of Earth and Stone
We call on you to protect this circle, to bind its magic and keep us safe.
The ground rumbles underneath us, a deep tremor I feel all the way down to my soul. If the others are concerned, they don’t show it: their faces tight with concentration, eyes closed, and heads tipped up toward the ceiling.
Guardians of the South, of Fire and Sun,
We call on you to protect this circle, to bind its magic and keep us safe.
The quarter candles—as Violet had called them—flicker and then burst to life, their flames licking high into the air. The energy in the room swirls around us like an angry storm and then in a flash of light disappears.
I look around at the coven, my eyes settling on Violet. “Well,” I ask. “Did it work?”
The look she sends me gives me chills, but no one else seems to notice. And then she says, “We’ll find out soon enough.”
“What’s up with Carrig?” I say to Amalia as she pulls on her knitted hat.
“He’s just quiet. Carlie is the mouth.”
I’d noticed. Except for the incantations, Carrig didn’t utter a single word. But everyone else seemed used to his lack of speech.
“Boo.” Greyson grabs me from behind and my heart lurches into my throat.
“Greyson, don’t do that. I almost peed myself.”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark, little girl?” My eyes narrow with contempt and he laughs. “And she bites too.”
“Grey, don’t be a dick.”
“Who, me?” He pouts at Amalia and then settles his whiskey-colored eyes back on me. “I’m sorry. It was too tempting not to though. Do you ladies need accompanying back to your dorm?”
“We’re good. I’m sure you have other things to be doing.” Something passes between Amalia and him.
“Indeed. I bid you both goodnight.”
“He’s… weird.”
“Greyson is like an old soul in a ridiculously hot body. Shame he bats for the other team.”
“He does?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I…” The words die on my tongue and Amalia chuckles. “Come on, let’s get back.” Shoving her hands into her pockets, she takes off, but something rustles over by the bushes lining the building and I strain to hear it again. There's movement in the shadows and I narrow my eyes, widening them when Sol steps out.
“Terra, are you coming?” Amalia glances back and Sol inches back, his form swallowed by the darkness.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” My eyes trap Sol’s for another second before I break the connection and hurry after my friend.
When we reach Earhart, we say goodnight and make our way to our rooms. I haven’t been inside ten minutes when a quiet knock sounds on my door. It isn’t unexpected. Sol was there waiting for me, and when I walked away, part of me knew he’d come. What I haven’t decided yet is whether or not to let him in. But after the third knock, I relent.
“What do you want?” I blurt out as the door swings open and he rubs a hand over his smooth head.
“Is that an invitation to come in?”
I quirk up my brow, tempted to slam the door in his face.
Not one word.
I haven’t heard one word from him since the day I confronted all four of them—the night after he kissed me. So the idea that he’s watching me, stalking me from the shadows, doesn’t sit well with me.
“Terra,” his voice holds no emotion. He’s so guarded, so unreachable, and I want to know why. Why does he act like this with me?
He makes a gruff noise in the back of his throat and I groan. “Get out of my head.”
“Let me in your room and I’ll consider it.”
Releasing an exasperated breath, I step aside and let him in. But the second the door closes behind us, I say, “What’s your problem, Sol?”
“You shouldn’t be hanging around with the witches,” he says.
“What would you have me do?” I lift my chin in defiance. “Stay in my room forever? This is college. I have classes, friends. A life.”
He scoffs at that and my inner voice roars with frustration. “You think any of this matters?”
“It matters to me.” I fold my arms across my chest.
“Well, it shouldn’t.”
I step closer, holding his cool glare with my own. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you,” he grinds out as if the words hurt.
“Could have fooled me.”
His jaw clenches as fire burns in his eyes. He’s pissed. So pissed. His anger dances around us like a storm ready to strike. But I refuse to let him berate me when I have done nothing wrong. He chose to keep me in the dark, they all did. And I refuse to rely on them to spoon-feed me snippets of information as and when they think it appropriate.
I’m strong.
Powerful.
I have the spirit of an ancient Goddess inside me for Christ’s sake.
And I’m determined to control my power. With or without their help.
“Well?” I push. “Spit it out, or are you too much of a coward?”
He rushes forward, and I gasp, slamming my eyes shut, waiting for the impact, but it never comes. When I peek open a lid, he’s front in front of me, fists clenched at his side, eyes set into thin lines.
“Sol?” I croak, unsure of what is happening right now. Does he want to hurt me? It sure looks like he—
“Hurt you?” The softness in his voice contradicts the pure fury in his expression. “I would never.”
“So what the hell is your problem?”
He steps back as if an invisible force yanked him away, and the sudden distance between us feels cavernous.
“You’re not supposed to be here, Ga—Terra,” he corrects himself. “You should be in Elysia. That’s where you belong.”
“But I’m not,” I whisper. “I’m here. Ross said something’s coming. Something bad.” His teeth grind together but I continue. “I don’t understand any of this yet, but I do know this, I’m strong. Stronger than you give me credit for. And the witches, they can help me unlock my power further. Being around Cael, around Ross and Endo… you, it interferes somehow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Cael has been showing me some stuff. I wanted to try to do it but couldn’t. When I tried with Amalia it came more easily. You’re all so protective. What if your energy cages mine?”
“Impossible,” he grumbles but from the doubt glittering in his eyes, I know he’s considering it.
“You said it yourself, you don’t know what to expect. But I won’t sit by and let you all make decisions for me. I didn’t leave one cage to be forced into another, Sol.”
Something flickers across his face. I want to believe it’s pride, but this is Sol, so it’s most likely disbelief or irritation. I wait for him to say something—anything—to break the heavy silence. Instead, he stalks forward, reaching for me. His fingers glide across my cheek and bury deep into my hair. He lowers his head, touching it to mine, staring down at me through his thick lashes. “I have given my existence to serving you; don’t make my job any harder than it needs to be,” he whispers, his warm breath dancing across my lips.
A fraction closer and he’d be kissing me again. For a lingering second, I think he might, and my eyes flutter shut, waiting.
Hoping.
But then he expels a long breath and cool air washes over me. When I finally open my eyes, I find my dorm room empty. As if Sol was never here. And part of me can’t help but think maybe it would be better if he hadn’t been.
By the gods, she was infuriating. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.
But that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to do.
He could remember the way she tasted. Remember the feel of her soft lips against his. The soft lines of her body beneath his touch.
He should never have kissed her. Because now it was all he could think about. It was the reason he’d stayed away. Lingering in the shadows, watching her from afar. Because he’d known her mortality would affect them.
Gaia’s fall from Elysia had, in some ways, hit him the hardest. He’d been furious when she first suggested it. Had categorically told her no. They were her Chosen and they would protect Earth as they had always done. But he should have known. For Gaia was a Goddess, one of the primordial deities, and there was nothing more she loved than her creation. No length she wouldn’t go to ensure its survival. Even if it meant leaving herself unprotected.
Even if it meant making the ultimate sacrifice.
Foolish, foolish woman. He couldn’t fathom it. Choosing possible extinction for a planet of selfish, greedy, tainted humans. Of course, they weren’t all the same. In his eons fighting here, he’d grown quite fond of the green and
blue planet.
Earth.
The place he’d spent the last nineteen years roaming.
Waiting.
Knowing she was out there, locked away in a mortal body, unaware of her true self… it almost sent him mad in the beginning. But now she was here, it wasn’t much better. Terra was almost as infuriating, if not more so, than Gaia. Stubborn and defiant.
But she was also strong. And part of him—the part that didn’t want to shake or kiss her senseless—had beamed with pride as she stood up to him. For he knew that although the future was unknown, one certainty existed.
The darkness the Oracle foresaw was rising. They all felt it. Stirring. Waiting to strike.
And when it revealed itself, they needed to be ready.
She needed to be ready.
“Vasilissa, what troubles you?” Endo approaches his Queen as she stares out at Elysia from her balcony.
“How long have we known one another now? A myrioi? Two?”
“It will never be long enough, your Grace.”
“Endo.” She turns to him and reaches for his face, her fingers lingering over his alabaster skin, but not touching. Never touching. “Please call me Gaia.”
“I am not worthy, your Grace.”
She scoffs at that and turns back to the scenery that lies beyond. The lush green fields and rolling blue seas.
“There you are,” a deep voice says.
“Brothers,” Endo replies and Gaia risks peeking over at them. Her soldiers. Her Chosen. By the gods, it has been so long since they took a knee before her and the High Council.
Too long.
Yet, they stay true to their fealty. Exacting her orders on Earth without question or fear. She is honored to have such dedicated guardians. But it doesn’t stop the guilt.
“There are whispers amongst the lessers that the Oracle has spoken.” It is Cael who speaks this time.
“Decorum, Soldier,” Sol scolds but Gaia turns to face them all. Clasping her hands behind her back, she smiles weakly.
“It is true. The High Council met the night before last.”
“Your Grace?” Concern lingers in Ross’ voice and she can barely stand it. For they won’t understand the decisions that lie ahead. Which is why she must approach this delicately.