Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

Gavin rolls his eyes all the way over to Cassie, who looks at him knowingly. She grabs his hand and squeezes and says, “Jezi, come on. Be fair.”

  “Be fair?” Jezi asks, punching her hands in the air at her sides. “What’s with you people? Don’t you see what’s happening? Ever since she,” she says, pointing at me, “has come into our lives, there’s been nothing but trouble. She’s a magnet for it. If any of you had any sense in your heads, you’d realize this and bail out.”

  “A true Watchman isn’t a quitter,” Gavin says, “and we sure as hell don’t abandon our own just ‘cause shit gets real.” The lowness of his words and the way his eyes disappear beneath his brow suggests he’s had enough. Cassie grips his forearm.

  A harsh, bitter, very vindictive laugh plunges from her mouth, filling the air with every vile feeling within her. When she finishes, she settles her eyes between me and Jaxen and says, “Tell that to your brother.” And with that, she walks out.

  I FOLLOW JEZI OUT THE door. This has got to end. Someone has to put her in her place, and that someone is looking a lot like me. Jaxen’s on my heels until he catches up and shoves the door separating me from the snow storm open. Jezi’s standing in the breezeway, wrapped inside her jacket and tugging on a cigarette.

  “Jezibelle,” Jaxen says with the tone of a father. The corners of his mouth are tilted downward and his shoulders are tense, but he approaches her with care, like she’s a rabid animal caught in a trap.

  She exhales forcefully and looks up at him with two small, sad lakes in her eyes. She doesn’t have to say anything. All the pain is written in the few droplets that fall down her cheek.

  His shoulders slouch when he sees this. I back up a step, not wanting to intrude. “When is this going to end?” he asks, reaching for her arm. “This is beneath you. You’re better than this.”

  “Am I?” she counters, her words trembling in time with her bottom lip. “Because I don’t really know who I am anymore. I don’t know who anyone is.” She tugs on her cigarette again, the end burning bright red. Her eyes dart over to the mark on my arm hidden beneath layers of clothing.

  “It’s been rough on us all, Jezi. We have to stick together. We have to stay strong.”

  She snorts and looks over at me before rolling her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Jaxen. You,” she curses, blowing smoke toward me.

  I move closer, every muscle in my body awake and ready for whatever she wants to throw at me. “The one and only,” I say unenthusiastically. She narrows her eyes. “Listen,” I say, “We can’t very well do what needs to be done if you are continuously hating me. And as far as the three of us sharing an affinity mark, that has to mean something. Maybe something good. When the craziness of this Dagger ends, we can figure it out. I want to settle whatever this is between us. ”

  “And I want world peace…looks like we both lose.” She waves her hand, dismissing me, and tries to walk off.

  I have other plans. I yank the cigarette from her mouth, ignoring the flash of rage across her face. I meet her glare and hold my own as she squares up to me, her nose inches from mine. “This needs to end,” I repeat firmly.

  “Then leave Jaxen alone,” she says just as firmly. Her hazel eyes are charged with power. “Shared mark or not, he’s mine. He’s been mine for the past four and a half years.”

  I throw my hands up into the air, looking to the sky. “Here we go, beating the dead horse again. Let’s say I leave him alone, and then what, Jezi? You know that even if I walked away from him, he still wouldn’t be yours. Not in that way.” Although my heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest, I keep my breathing level, not showing any fear. I have to get through to her. I have to show her I’m not a threat. I scratch my forehead, taking in an encouraging breath.

  She tenses, her eyes flickering away from mine for a moment, but returning with more rage than I can fathom. “You don’t know the first thing about us. You think you can come in here and just take over? Become the only thing he needs? Be the one who saves him? He needs me!” she says, pointing forcibly to her chest.

  “Of course he needs you,” I say, this time a little more gently. “I don’t have any intention of replacing you.”

  She flicks her gaze uncomfortably between the both of us, not knowing who to land on. “Intentions or not,” she says, her voice faltering, “what will he need me for if he has you? You hold the power of both. There are endless possibilities to what you can do, and what he can do with you. I feel our affinity bond weakening the more he falls for you.” She breaks off and looks away, chewing on the inside of her mouth.

  I let my hand settle on her arm and catch her gaze. “He’ll always need you, Jezi. You’re his Witch. That’s irreplaceable.” I wish I could believe my own words, but I don’t know anything anymore. Every truth I’ve ever believed has been altered and twisted into something none of us can interpret, none of us can trust.

  Millenniums pass as her breath hitches in and out of her throat. Tension settles behind me, swelling off of Jaxen. I don’t know what to say anymore. I don’t know how to make it right, because I can’t leave Jaxen alone. He’s mine. He always has been.

  “Jezi, we’ve had this discussion,” Jaxen says on an exhale. “I’ve got your back. We both agreed to not do this. Everything will be fine.”

  “It won’t. I’ve seen it,” she says, her words so quiet I almost miss them.

  “Seen what?”

  When she looks at me, her smile’s a little crooked and a little sad, like she’s finally letting herself come to terms with whatever is going on inside her head. “After you were attacked at the Academy, I took a piece of your hair and casted a divination spell. I had to know what we were getting ourselves into, what the Coven was setting us up for. I saw you two…joining together, but what I also saw was pain and misery and an inevitable choice that he will have to make. A choice between me and you.”

  “I would never let that happen, Jezi. I would walk away before he had to. No one should have to choose something like that,” I profess, sure that she’s wrong.

  “He will choose whether you want him to or not,” she admits sorrowfully, her eyes finding his over my shoulder. She pulls out another cigarette. I don’t stop her this time.

  “So then what?” I ask blindly, feeling him slipping through my fingers.

  “That’s up to you.” All anger and resentment has left her. It’s like she’s cleansed herself by getting that off her chest, but in turn, I’ve absorbed it. “But what I’ve seen will happen. Even if you try to deny it, it won’t last. Your paths are intertwined by something stronger than any affinity bond.”

  “You’re just upset. You’re not thinking clearly. Nothing is going to happen,” Jaxen says, sounding tired and beyond over the conversation.

  Her head snaps around. “It came to me in a set of images and symbols that don’t lie. Don’t you dare doubt me.”

  “I’m going inside,” Jaxen says, walking away from her.

  She looks at me, her eyes wild with magic. “Whatever happens, you can’t change fate,” she says.

  “Funny that you say that, considering your attitude toward a certain someone who was in the same boat years ago.”

  Her eyebrows meet in the center of her forehead. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Why were you so rude to Weldon?” I ask. “What he did for his brother…how he became what he is...it was out of nobility and out of his hands. In my opinion, that’s something to be admired.”

  “Who said your opinion mattered? This is off-topic. He is what he is now, and that’s frowned upon by our kind,” she says coldly, smoke billowing out with her words. “He can’t be trusted.”

  “I saw what happened to him,” I say, feeling the need to stick up for him. “When he touched me…”

  “Witches have that ability, Faye. We can see into people’s minds. Remember?” She leans forward and flicks the ash off her cigarette, and then leans back, looking back at me expectantly.
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br />   “As I was saying,” I say as collectedly as I can manage, “what happened to him was worse than anything you could imagine, Jezi. He was tortured and had part of his Hunter abilities ripped from him, all for the love of his brother, and when he returned, his welcome party was banishment from those he loved.”

  She flicks her cigarette down into the snow, my words seeming to go through one ear and out the other. “Look, I can’t help how I feel, and you trying to guilt me isn’t going to work. I’m the wronged one here, through and through. Just remember what I said.” She walks off into the storm.

  I think about calling after her, but don’t. I just watch her disappear behind a sheet of white. She is just as stubborn as Jaxen, just as hard to get through, but knowing Jaxen, I know there’s a way. There has to be. There’s a crack in her tough shell, and I’ll find it one way or another.

  I walk back inside and find them huddled around Gavin on the phone. I don’t know how I could wake up to the brightest sun, only to have it eclipsed by reality. My ability to use both powers, my purpose within the Coven, I feel like we are on the cusp of realizing it and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. All I want is to save my parents…not be a tool in finding a machine meant for torturing, not for finding a dagger that has the ability to cast someone to the Underground, and then wake them back up.

  Gavin hangs the phone up and looks at all of us. His face is paler than before. His smile is long gone. Cassie leans on his shoulder, staring up at him. “That was Mack. He wants us to meet him at his wiccan shop right away.”

  “Wait…Mack has a wiccan shop?” I ask, confused.

  “It’s his hobby,” Weldon says dryly.

  “Anyway, it seems it’s time,” Gavin continues. “He’s spoken with the High Priesthood. They want her to complete the Dagger. They will send Elite Watchmen to Whiskey Hallow which is where they believe the other half rests.”

  “So why don’t they just go get it themselves?” Jaxen asks, pulling me against him protectively.

  “Because,” Gavin says, looking directly at me, “she’s the only one who has the power to touch it and put it back together.”

  WE ARRIVE AT MACK’S WICCAN shop close to noon and find him in the back eating lunch, which consists of a deli-made pastrami sandwich and a bag of plain potato chips. In his free hand is a small notebook with scribbling all over the cover. Papers and maps are scattered on the table, making it look like an auditor’s field day. He sets his half-eaten sandwich down and dusts his hands over his plate before looking up at us.

  “You’re late,” he says dryly. He reaches for his glass of what I assume is alcohol because of the amber color, and takes a short sip, smacking his lips after swallowing.

  “We’re here,” Weldon says dismissively. “Although, I don’t know why we had to meet here.” He eyes the room and walks over to the liquor cabinet perched next to the refrigerator. He pulls out a glass and flicks a glance over his shoulder, asking for any takers. Gavin raises a finger.

  “By all means, my home is your home,” Mack says, but there’s no welcome in his tone when he looks at his brother pouring his whiskey into two cups. He gestures to the chair next to him, asking me to sit. “And I asked you here because I can speak freely within these walls, and frankly, it’s time that I do.”

  “About the Exanimator?” I ask as I sit.

  His face pales a couple shades at the mention of the machine.

  “Fresh out of words, brother?” Weldon says with a slight snicker. He looks pleased with himself and even more pleased with me.

  His eyes widen, but only for a moment, and then he peers over at Weldon. “I see my brother has filled you in on the truth.”

  “He has,” Jaxen says in a low voice, taking a seat next to me around the table. Jezi, Gavin, and Cassie sit on the other side near Mack. I gaze around the table, my mind on overdrive with all the information laid out before me. The maps look like some sort of underground tunneling network. Letters are half-opened and addressed to names I haven’t heard of. Books are stacked one on top of the other, the subjects ranging from Coven Myths to Decoding and Breaking Traps.

  “What’s all this stuff?” I ask, running my fingers over as many papers as I can.

  Mack’s hand lands on top of mine, squeezing. “It’s Coven property. Documents taken from the Sacred Library in Ethryeal City. It’s everything ever written about the Dagger of Retribution. These words have the answer to putting the Dagger back together, the spell needed to mend the blade, but it requires one who possesses both powers.” He looks at me. “It requires you.”

  I swallow. “And if I don’t want to go through with this?”

  A sad smile lifts the wrinkles around his mouth. “Young child, you have no choice. You’re bound by this Coven. You’ve taken the blood oath to become a Night Watchman. This is your order. This is your assignment, and you must fulfill it or risk being banished, or worse, sentenced to the Underground.”

  Jaxen’s fists connect with the table, sending the papers scattering through the air, and then lifts Mack up by his collar before any of us have time to react. Mack’s legs dangle in the air as rage takes over his features. His skin turns red and his lips tremble as his voice picks up. “You put me down this instant, you insubordinate…”

  Weldon’s behind Mack, pulling him down and out of Jaxen’s hands. The look he shoots Jaxen is enough to make Jaxen take a step back, but his fists remain balled, his breathing heavy. “There, there, brother,” Weldon says with mock concern. He dusts Mack’s shoulders off, fixing him back up. “You know how these young Hunters can be so temperamental, especially when their partner… I mean, love interest is in danger.”

  Mack throws Weldon’s hands away and turns to face Jaxen. He looks like a raging bull. “Do not EVER disrespect me like that again, or I’ll have you carted off to Ethryeal City where the Priesthood can judge you.”

  Jaxen clenches his fists tighter, so tight I fear his skin will rip. I grab his hand, pulling him closer to me, trying to relax him, trying to keep him safe from Mack.

  “I think your means of negotiation and bribery are lacking in the charm department,” I say, directing the attention away from Jaxen and on to me. “You caught us off-guard.”

  Mack laughs bitterly, his eyes two ovals of knowledge I can’t even begin to fathom. “I’m sorry, but in this business, there is no charm. Only death. It’s either you or your foe. Now, if you will all sit back down, we can continue this plan. Time is of the essence, and we are running out of it. In case you forgot, your deadline for saving your parents is tonight’s full moon.”

  I fall into my seat, my words swallowed and crushed by truth.

  His eyes shut momentarily, and he releases a small sigh. “It seems the Priesthood has known all along where the other half of the Dagger was placed. They’ve just been waiting for the opportune moment to strike...when the Everlasting would surface and unveil the whereabouts of the other half of the Dagger.

  “You will head to the remote recesses of the woods off of Whiskey Hallow Road. There’s an area where there were sacrificial ceremonies held to worship Demons. That’s where Mourdyn had gone to make his deal with Bael, the Demon leader of the Underground, and it’s where he was found by the Divine while trying to raise Bael’s entire sixty-six Legion Army. It’s also where the other half was buried.”

  “Great, so since I have no real choice in the matter, how are we going to get there before the full moon?” I ask, feeling like time has become my enemy.

  Weldon clears his throat, quieting everyone. “I think you’re all forgetting about someone.” His finger hovers over his head, pointing to himself.

  Gavin grins like a fool. “Gear up, boys. Looks like we’re Shadow Walking.”

  “WHAT EXACTLY IS SHADOW WALKING?” I ask, feeling thrilled but also terrified.

  “It’s how Demons move around town,” Weldon quickly explains, his voice as dark as his expression. “You walk into a shadow and it takes you to another somewhere else.” He p
auses and scratches the back of his head. “It’s, well, it’s one of the few perks that came with what they did to me.”

  “Right,” I say, feeling bad for asking. It’s obvious that what happened to him in the Underground was more traumatizing than one could imagine. The fist of reality punches a hole through my heart at that thought. And that’s where my parents are. Suffering. Possibly hooked up to the very same machine I could be used for.

  “So we’re just going to walk through shadows and potentially kill ourselves? All for her parents?” Jezi asks, arms crossed. She whips her head around to Mack, her dark hair fanning out like silken fabric. “I’m not down for this. In fact, I want no part in this.”

  Mack’s quick to respond. With a dull, tired look he says, “Then go to Ethryeal City and explain yourself to the High Priesthood.”

  She seethes in place, but clamps her mouth shut.

  “All right, everyone. Gather around,” Weldon says. We all move in front of a large shadow. “We all know the risks involved with the trip we’re about to take. Some of us may not come back.”

  “What makes you say that?” Gavin asks. “You’ve got the best Hunters and set of Witches in town. Have a little faith.”

  Jezi snorts.

  Weldon looks unimpressed. “The Darkyn Leaders didn’t just tell you about the Dagger without reason. They knew we’d come back to Mack and be set on this path. They’ve been preparing for this. In the past, they were notorious for fighting alongside of Demons. Bael has to know by now. He might even be leading this merry band of robbers.”

  “So then, what do you suggest?” Jaxen asks, all ears.

  Weldon looks at Mack, who’s still sorting through the papers on his table. “We need as many Demon-killing weapons as possible.”

  Mack extends his hand out toward a wall, and without looking up, he says, “What’s mine is yours.”

  Weldon walks over to the wall and places his palm on it. Bright white light shines in what looks like the seams of a door, and then a knob appears. I inch forward, trying to keep my mouth from hanging open. Weapons of every shape and size line the walls and clutter the table in the center of a room the size of a walk-in closet. There are small glass vials filled with what I assume is holy water, large aluminum cans labeled salt, other cans with brick dust, strange looking daggers and swords, sawed-off shot guns, hand guns, throwing stars...everything you can imagine. Everything a Night Watchman needs.