Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

  “That won’t be hard,” I say, attempting to smile. I think it comes out more like a frown.

  His lip twitches at the corner, almost giving way to a smile, when a form steps out of the shadows. The snow seems to part around him, as if it knows not to touch him. My stomach cripples in on itself when the smell of dark magic strikes my nose; the same scent I smelled the night Gavin and I were attacked.

  “Darkyn Witches,” I mouth to Jaxen. My blood’s replaced with lead. My composure is replaced with turbulent worry. I’m scared, but I don’t fear for my life, I fear for his. For Jaxen’s.

  Jaxen turns, but not soon enough. He’s ripped away from me, stolen by the darkness that hunts me. The Darkyn Witch flicks a hand out from under their robe, sending Jaxen flying up into the air, and then slams him onto the hood of the car. I jerk upright, volation coursing through my body. Any pain lingering is replaced with adrenaline.

  “The Everlasting,” a dark, deep unnerving voice rings out. It floats all around me, stringing through the air like a spider spinning its silken web. “How coincidental that we bump into one another on this abandoned street.” There’s a note of sarcasm in his tone.

  He flicks his hand again, and I’m lifted into the air and dropped onto the ground in front of him. A scream juts from my mouth from the shock of pain to my nearly-healed wound.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Thomas Duncken, one of seven leaders in the Darkyn Coven.” He pulls the robe back from his face and lifts the horned mask. I have to force myself to not look away. Lines of deep-set scars, like someone sliced their fingers across his face, streak from one side to the other. Dark brown hair wraps around a large circular scar on the top of his head. He’s a form of what used to be Primeval, a soul tainted by the ways of dark magic, of everything we stand against.

  He crouches down to my level. “Why, it’s almost as if you’ve been…handed…to me.” His voice is a low, grating whisper between us. He lifts his hand and points a long finger at me. The nail is filed to a point. Each of them are. I stay statue-still when he moves his finger under my chin and slides the tip lightly against my delicate chin. Is that why he has scars all over his face? From his nails? I jerk my head away, my eyes desperately searching for Jaxen.

  He’s pushing himself off the concrete just feet away from me. His eyes are wild with fury. “Don’t you touch her!” he shouts. He’s back on his feet and standing in between me and the Witch before I can even blink.

  “Or what, Hunter? You think you can stand against a Darkyn Witch? Against the power we possess?” His laugh is cold and mocking.

  Jaxen’s fists curl at his sides. “Guess we’ll find out.” He slams a volation-filled punch into Thomas’ stomach, sending him flying through the air. Thomas crashes against the porch railing and down into the overgrown hedges. In a speedy blur, Jaxen jumps on top of Thomas and continues to pound his fist again and again and again in his face. I lose count by the time Jaxen hops off the man, his knuckles bloody and his eyes pulsing with rage beyond understanding.

  He pulls his flux out, ready to stab, but the dagger never plunges. His face twists in horror and pain as he falls to his knees. Thomas is already on his feet, his eyes filled with rage and set on Jaxen. His face is a mutilation of blood and broken blood vessels, but it doesn’t seem to affect him.

  “That was a very stupid thing to do,” Thomas says, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He twists his hand, and Jaxen cries out in pain, falling over onto his back.

  Every bit of electricity is sucked into my being, down to the few street lamps that do work. I’m a destroyer, a machine built to kill those who would take from the innocent. “I’d have to agree,” I say, my voice deathly low. With fists balled at my sides, I charge the electricity into them, and then slam them into the air. A wave of volation ripples out like an invisible tsunami in Thomas’ direction.

  I search myself for my flux when the electricity wraps around Thomas, binding him. I can’t find it. Think! It’s trapped under the house. I quickly manifest it into my palm and look up to aim. Thomas has already dispelled my weak energy by the time I look back at him.

  “You’re no match against me, Faye Middleton. I’m filled with more power than you can even comprehend, and you’re outnumbered.”

  I look around. “Math’s not your strong point, is it?”

  Thomas smiles, but underneath the smile is a flicker of resentment. My skin crawls with the way his eyes prey over me…like he’s about to make an example of me. His eyes jerk toward Jaxen, and Jaxen groans louder through his teeth, his back arching against the concrete.

  I don’t even think, I just send all the power I have into the flux and aim it straight for Thomas’ heart. But another Witch appears in front of him and catches the dagger in between the palms of his hands. He doesn’t even seem affected by the volation still charged into the blade.

  “Oh, I can add,” Thomas says, “behold.” He steps around the Witch, and all of a sudden, Darkyn Witches pop from thin air all around us. I count six by the time they’re finished, and find myself moving toward Jaxen, trying to hold my fear in check. Jaxen stands on shaky legs when Thomas lets up on the spell and backs up to me.

  Weldon, Gavin, and Cassie appear on their knees, held down by three of the six Witches. “Darkyn scum!” Gavin hisses, struggling against the magic holding him down. Cassie doesn’t move. She doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes are set on something in the distance, something I don’t think anyone of us could see, same as Weldon’s.

  “What is it you want?” Jaxen says. He takes my hand in his. Together, magic thrives between us.

  Thomas doesn’t even acknowledge him when he answers. He looks dead at me. “It’s simple. We want the Dagger.”

  “What Dagger?” I ask, shaking my head in confusion.

  “What Dagger?” Thomas repeats, looking as if I just insulted him. “You mean to tell me you have no clue?”

  “Do you think I’d play games right now?” I shoot back, trying to keep myself together.

  “Bring them forth,” Thomas says to the other Witches. Weldon, Gavin, and Cassie are pushed forward. “Bind them.” They’re shoved on their faces, magic hovering all around them, crippling them. Blood pours from their mouths, gurgling out in bubbles. “Now, I’ll ask you again. The Dagger. We know you’ve been told about it. Hand it over.”

  “I haven’t been told anything,” I say, feeling on the verge of puking.

  “Wrong answer.” Jaxen’s brought in with Weldon, Gavin, and Cassie, and I’m forced to watch as they all suffer at the hands of an enemy that shouldn’t be alive, an enemy that should be extinct.

  I explode. Magic seeps from my very core and flows out of my hands like swirling vines of electricity. I combine a spell with my volation and send the vines out like whips, lashing through the air. Thomas jumps back, words flowing off his lips effortlessly. He’s seasoned for this. I know he’s trying to counter my spell. The other two make a lunge for me, but my magical whip strikes them and wraps, tangling and trapping them inside my volation.

  “You will lose against us,” Thomas says, struggling to take a step. I tug harder, pulling energy from every living being around me. He’s going to pay for hurting them. He’s going to pay for being here. He’s going to pay for breathing. I blast my power into him, breaking his hold over my friends, and advance on him. Something flashes behind his eyes. Something demonic. He catches his balance, and counters with magic stronger than I’ve ever encountered, magic that has a taint to it.

  Thomas curls his hands into a fist, and all at once, my oxygen is cut off, killing my magic. I fall to my knees right next to Jaxen. There’s so much blood between him and Weldon and Gavin and Cassie. I can’t breathe. I tug and tug for air, but nothing comes. I fight to stand, but I can’t move. Spots dance before my eyes. My blood pounds behind my ears.

  And the worst part is, I can’t stop it.

  Thomas stops next to me as I fall to my back, the light dimming from my eyes. “I have to sa
y, I’m a little disappointed. I mean, you’re the Everlasting, yet here you lay, helpless and weak. You don’t stand a chance against the power we’ve tapped into. None of you do.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth and drops to a squat, the tip of the nose on his mask only inches from my face. “Now that I have your attention, I have a message for you from your parents.”

  My eyes grow wide.

  “Want to hear it?” He pauses, tilting his ear in my direction. I try to speak, but no words form. “But of course you do,” he answers for me. He lifts his hand in the air and twirls it with a magical symbol. I wait for something to happen…anything. I want to hear them, to see them so badly, but nothing ever happens. Thomas laughs the moment he sees me realize he’s messing with me. “You thought I was going to let you talk to them? Just like that?”

  He jerks his face close to mine. “The world doesn’t work that way. Everything has a price.” He pulls back and says, “You give me the Dagger, and we let them live…at least for another day.” He releases his hold on me just enough to allow me to talk.

  I grab my flux off the ground and hold it up as best I can. I hate that my hands are shaking against my will, fighting against the magic holding me down. “Here, take it.”

  His mirthless laughter strikes up, but is short lived. “No, you insolent girl. The Dagger of Retribution. You have it, and we need it. You have until the next full moon.” He looks up. The moon is almost full.

  “I don’t have that. I can’t help you. You can’t do this!”

  “I can. It’s done. You have until then. I hope for their sake you find it.”

  They twirl inside their cloaks and disappear just as quickly as they had come. Jaxen manages to pick himself up and rushes to my side, lifting me off the ground. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay?” I ask, the word foreign. “No…I’m not okay, and neither are my parents. I don’t have what they want, and I don’t have enough time to find it. My parents…they’re going to die because of me, because I didn’t want to accept my life as a Defect.”

  “That’s not true,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll find a way.”

  I look up at him. “Will we?”

  Weldon, Gavin, and Cassie walk over to us. Healing energy surrounds her, clearing them both of the curse placed on them.

  Gavin pushes her hand away and looks at Jaxen, his brows scrunched. “How the hell did they find us?”

  “Does the ‘how’ matter?” Jaxen barks, staring at Weldon. His body is tight with anger, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Just what the hell is your brother up to?”

  Weldon’s hands automatically fly up in defense. “Calm down, Jax. I know just as much as you.”

  “At least we know what they want and why they want her,” Cassie says hesitantly, eyes on the ground.

  “She’s not a target, Cassie. She’s a person. They can’t just throw her out here like bait.”

  “The book…” I say distantly. They continue arguing, but Cassie and Weldon flick their head in my direction. “The book Mack gave me, the one about Whiskey Hollow.” I stop and grab Jaxen’s arm, making him look at me. “He did give me that book for a reason. For this reason, Jaxen. Before we came, the chapter I was on was about the Dagger of Retribution, the same Dagger they spoke of. This has to be what Mack wants me to know.”

  “Yes, Faye, but that Dagger is a legend. For all we know, it was never real,” Jaxen says seriously.

  “It has to be if the Darkyns are going through all this trouble over it,” Weldon says. “What did it say, Faye?”

  “I didn’t get to read all of it. We have to go back. Maybe…maybe the answer is in the book,” I say. A small, tiny bit of light forms at the end of this very long, dark tunnel.

  “And then what? We’re going to hunt for it? You witnessed what happened. How strong they were,” Jaxen says a little too harshly.

  I glare up at him. “Then we have to be stronger.”

  THE WINTRY MORNING SUN BEGINS to rise behind the Academy by the time we pass through the old iron gates. Shimmery golden light streaks through the trees surrounding us, offering rays of warmth. Snow has settled on the ground and rooftops from the storm last night, the night I still don’t want to think about.

  No one has said anything since we left the abandoned street. I think they’re scared to say something, scared to set me off, but I’m not angry. I’m terrified. I feel unsafe in the silence. My thoughts sit like expert marksmen waiting to gun me down, waiting to kill what little bit of hope I have left.

  Gavin shuts the engine off and sits back in his seat. The leather creaks from his movement, the sound startling me. Here we sit, rule breakers coated in dried blood and shame, waiting for some sort of solution to form. We stare straight ahead, as if the answer lies within the walls of the Academy. Students, like tiny ants, make their way across campus to their first class. I wish I was with Katie.

  “Mack’s not going to like this,” Gavin says. “We’re not even supposed to be on campus anymore.”

  “He doesn’t have a choice,” Weldon says.

  “I need a shower before I deal with anything else,” Cassie says.

  “Me too,” Gavin agrees.

  “And maybe a nap,” Cassie adds. “I’m sure our rooms are still vacant.”

  Gavin turns in his seat. “I’ll let Mack know we’re on campus and set a meeting up with him. Head to your old room and try to rest. Maybe try to eat something. I’ll come and get you when it’s time.”

  We all get out of the car, tired and shocked. I grab my bag out of the trunk. I barely remember the walk to my room by the time I cross the threshold. Weldon follows me and Jaxen, unaffected by fatigue.

  “This is all Mack’s fault,” Jaxen says as he plops down in the chair by the window.

  Weldon rolls his eyes. “Blame is a tool of deflection meant for the weak minded. You aren’t weak minded, Jaxen, and blame doesn’t wear well on you.”

  Jaxen huffs through his nose, the sound releasing more than just air…more than just frustration. His hand rests on the back of his neck while his other hand is tucked deep into his pocket.

  Weldon eyes him over for a long moment with something like recognition passing over his face. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you,” he says, tilting his head as his brow creases. “I knew you liked her, but this goes beyond like.”

  Jaxen stiffens, stands up, and then pulls Weldon out the bedroom door, slamming it behind the both of them. It takes me a moment, left in deafening silence, to realize what just happened.

  Weldon is Jaxen’s best friend. If their relationship is anything like me and Katie, then Weldon can read him like an open book, and if he’s right, then that means that Jaxen really likes me…like bordering beyond like. Like what I think I might feel for him…four letters that bear more weight than the heaviest metal on earth.

  Voices rise and fall with heated passion on the other side of the door. I want to listen in. I want to hear what’s being said, but I also want to respect the man who’s fast become more than just a friend in my life.

  Minutes later, they both stroll back through the door. Weldon looks pleased with himself, and Jaxen looks as distraught as ever.

  “Aside from Jezi and her way of making you feel guilty, we have bigger fish to fry. The Maddock kind,” Weldon says. “That’s why we’re here. The book my brother gave you, where is it?”

  I pull it out of my bag and toss it to him. He flips to the chapter I read last. His eyes skim over the page, taking in every word, every hidden meaning his brother left behind.

  “Here,” he says, pointing to a page. “He underlined this paragraph.” He walks the book over to me and sets it on my lap, pointing to the passage.

  After the eradication of the Divine Mourdyn Roush, it is said the Divine Alesteria Roush splintered the Dagger of Retribution in half and hid the two pieces; one within the Coven to a trusted bloodline, and the other amongst the battle field. No one has seen it since
.

  My Grimoire falls off the top of my armoire. I look up. Midnight is staring down at it, his tail flicking back and forth pensively. He hops off and circles the Grimoire, meowing loudly.

  “You have a cat?” Weldon asks.

  I nod as Jaxen picks my Grimoire up off the floor, his brows creased in confusion.

  “I hate cats. They spook me.” He looks up at Midnight and scowls. “Especially that one. There’s something...familiar about him, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  I glance over at Midnight as Jaxen says, “The cover has been torn to shit.” He lifts the scratched off piece of bark. “There’s something…” He stops and looks up at me, his face a ghostly reflection of awareness. He holds the book out to me.

  I take it, my head tilted, trying to figure out why he looks…almost…scared. I pull at the remaining piece and a glint catches the light from the window. A gleam? I pull it the rest of the way off, and there rests half of a dagger’s blade, split clean in the middle.

  I look back up at Jaxen, my stomach bottoming out. My heart feels like a drummer beating incessantly against my chest. My legs feel like twigs bearing the weight of the world, on the verge of snapping.

  “This can’t be…” I hold it up. Weldon rushes to the bathroom, grabs a washcloth, and then snatches it from my hand, closing it in the cloth.

  “I think it’s time my brother does some explaining.”

  BY THE TIME IT SINKS in that Midnight has managed to find half of the Dagger in my mother’s Grimoire, my family’s Grimoire, I find myself standing outside of Mack’s office. Weldon left my room and summoned the rest of our group together. He moves faster, and with more threat, than anyone I know. Including Jaxen.

  Now, we’re waiting for Mack to finish up with whoever is in there. Nathaniel stands near us, watching each one of us with an inspecting eye. Jezi hasn’t even looked at me.