by Jamie Magee
“You should’ve told me,” Reveca said in a smaller voice.
Talon tried to hide the shock in his expression, but he was sure his eyes gave some of it away. Reveca’s voice was even clearer now. Her wounds were fading. The wrath and high of power she walked around with for weeks were subsiding, the woman he had loved and laughed with, the one his family adored was fighting her way to the surface once more.
Talon knew he was a long way from victory, so he kept at it. Kept treating her like she was alive and well and this was another day in the life of the rebels they once were.
“And you should’ve told me you loved another. You should’ve told me my days were numbered, and it wasn’t your magic alone that held my immortality.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I forgive you...”
As he spoke the raven that had been circling him like he was wearing a few loafs of bread squawked.
“You love her,” Reveca said to him.
“I don’t know what it is, but I know love doesn’t begin to explain it.”
His words caused Reveca to sway, but he’d be damned if he took them back, they were his truth.
“I forgive you,” Reveca said as tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry I was the storm that kept you from home.”
Talon hitched his lip into a lopsided grin. “A storm that made me feel alive when I had no reason to feel such.”
Reveca dropped her head, seconds later when she looked up again rage was back in her gray stare only this time it landed on Saige.
“Blood of blood, traitor,” Reveca seethed as she glared at the clothes Saige was wearing.
Saige, never failing to rise to a bout with Reveca spoke earnestly. “I forgive you,” Saige said serenely, but any fool could pick up on the chill at its very end.
“Forgive me,” Reveca spat. “For what sister? For discovering who you are?”
“You know what you did, the first sin of sisters is a broken promise...”
Reveca jolted back as her history assaulted her once more. A spoiled royal she was, but so was Saige. Until puberty struck home, they were best of friends. A perfect team. Saige could sway the grace of any elder and if there a was dare Reveca was sure to find it. If they both wanted something their caregivers were powerless, giving into them was far easier than holding out.
They were scarcely the age six when they demanded their teacher tell them of the fates ahead. They’d heard rumblings and whispers and had always known others looked at them differently as if they expected either one of them to explode at any moment.
Days of time were spent breaking their teacher then finally he snapped. He pointed to Reveca. “Cold as ice you will steal the love of your mirror and play and twist your way until you toss your throne to the judgment of your ways.” He turned, to Saige. “Innocent you may seem, but in the quiet, you toy with paths unseen struggling to undo what was taken from you, end the end...” the rest of what he had to say never made it out of his mouth.
The girls watched a sword run him through. A royal guard had made quick work of ending the life before them. In terror, they ran to hide. For days, they were allowed. Servants left their daily food, even new toys and treats. Sweets and playing were not what the best friends cared to do. They held each other and cried. They cried for their teacher. They cried for their future.
Reveca took Saige’s face in her tiny hands. “I will never give you a reason to plot and twist. I will never steal love from you. I vow it.”
“Sisters vow,” Saige whispered.
“Vow of sisters,” Reveca had said.
It was the richest and deepest vow either had taken. When they did emerge from their keep, nothing was said of what occurred. In a year’s time, Saige asked of her future, the tale she was told was nothing grim as what the teacher had said. The girls, in time, convinced themselves the man was slain because of the lies he was telling them.
Reveca stepped back from Saige, but Saige kept coming. In a matter of seconds, Reveca had broken into a sprint, and the others had no choice but to follow her.
“Will you not fucking do something!” Talon raged at King as he tore after the girls.
“The ancestors are blocking me,” King said as he struggled to hold Reveca back. He didn’t know where she was going, but leaving the swamp was out of the question.
“What the fuck is their deal?”
“Settling old wars,” King said as he watched the raven fly after Saige. The one who had favored Talon hadn’t bothered to follow them.
“I said I forgave you!” Saige bellowed into the night.
Reveca reached the clearing where she had died before she ever stopped. Where the fuck was she going? Right back to the ancestors that had dumped her in this twisted Oz, it would seem.
A sister’s vow? How had she ever forgotten such a thing? There it was, the rawest of truths in its ugly splendor dancing before Reveca and what had she done with it? She ignored it. She let herself believe it wasn’t the truth, that she’d never do such a thing, to anyone, especially her sister. The vow was easily made and easily forgotten years later, long after Reveca had loved then lost. She had let her sorrow drown her to the point where she had no idea who she was anymore.
Maybe some of this, any of it, would have rung true, sparked a degree of familiarity if Talon had been the first Reveca had stolen. There had been many before him, even some in their home dimension. For spite, Reveca had even smiled sweetly at the father of Saige’s daughter. There was something about him that stirred awareness.
Over and over Reveca had struck Saige. It wasn’t cold to her, it was just. It was revenge for it all. The only weapon she had. Saige was the only one Reveca could bring true pain to; bringing her pain brought the coven agony. A necessary evil of sorts.
To make it all worse, Saige looks Reveca in the eye and says she forgives her. Oh, hell no. Humbled Reveca might be, but stupid she was not. Granted Saige had an insane volume of grace within her, but her humanity was never far from the surface.
It would take a catastrophic event for Saige to forgive so soundlessly. This was a quarrel with enough emotion to last through eras, and it was falling flat with gooey I love yous. Nope. Red. Fucking. Flag.
Reveca stopped short and paid attention to how not only King had halted but so had Talon and Saige. Reveca felt like she was seven again and the entire world was watching her, waiting for her to explode at any second.
Slowly she turned, as she did her gaze cast over the swamp. She could smell the blood. The more she focused on the aroma, the more pain she felt. Face after face, she saw men she had slain not once but twice slide across her mind’s eye.
Sorrow struck her soul. She had killed many over her existence, it was part of life, part of survival, but those men never left her thoughts.
She had hunted them; they did not fall in battle with their loyal hearts fighting for what they believed to be just. Reveca murdered them. She watched them, and if they proved to be battle ready, she made quick work of their death and even quicker work of their resurrection. At the time, it all made sense. Zale had made it make sense. “Practice this gift, build your army, and no coven or power will ever cross you gain.”
Reveca liked to think she lost count of those she turned when she was in Zale’s keep. The total number of all she had raised may have been hazed, but not the faces of the lives she took on purpose, for her own need. Those men never accepted their rise. They were the vilest of Rouges. Talon never understood why, but Reveca knew. She had always known.
She felt pain rip across her arm then looked there to see the blood spilled by a phantom weapon. In her fear, she looked to King, his stare full of sorrow, the anger she was enduring any of this told her she was not wrong. This cruel memory of being brought to death by those she had stolen from life had truth.
One by one she felt the slashes mar her body. She knew time was short, far too short to make amends she had to make. Reveca pulled her stare from her source of life and landed her eyes on Saige. “I don’t des
erve your forgiveness...but I ask for yours.”
The raven lurking around Saige squawked and took flight. Reveca looked to Talon the remorse in his dark stare broke her. “You tell them I love them. That I was honored to lead them. You tell them they are not allowed to let our banners fall. They must fight on, harder in the darkest hour.” Her gaze drifted to Saige. “Love her mindlessly. Love her like it is your last day on earth.”
Reveca swayed as more and more lashes met her flesh. Slowly she looked to King hoping to stare into his eyes as the end came for her.
But King wasn’t staring her down like she was sure he would be, he was staring just before her looking more enraged and fearful than she had ever known him to be.
Chapter Three
To say Shade had reached a new level of fucked up was an understatement because nothing had been un-fucked up in a long while.
With a heaving chest, he pulled Gwinn against him and wrapped her in the steel grip of vim. A silent part of him was sighing in relief as if a task long-awaited had met its completion.
The part of him that was large and in charge, firmly planted in the present felt a sense of dread wash over him, it was worst than dread. It was dread knowing you were the cause of the pain coming your way and it didn’t matter if you were sure when it all went down there was no other choice, now you regretted not thinking it through.
Finding the shocked stare of Thrash peering into him from across the room wasn’t helping much. There Thrash was holding the female that had eluded him for most of his life, encircled by sons that were kept secret from him and still Shade could taste the same emotions that were coming from him drowning Thrash.
There wasn’t a doubt in their mind they had sent a missile right toward their home, the question was—who would feel the pain of the attack. A very real part of Shade believed they all would in some way.
The waters that had appeared out of nowhere never went away, but there was what looked like glass over them. Gray stones led the way to the platform in the center from each direction, but no one had bothered to use them.
Bastion was eyeing each of the boys his age with both a hint of disdain and curiosity, the truth of it was his mother had vanished, and when she appeared again, these asshats had her. The six in question, like their mother, were raptly staring at the waters below. Shade had tried to follow their stare, but it was too bright for him, the vim swirling around threatened to break apart the foundation of self-awareness he had, a foundation that was slowly chipping away as each day with his witch in his life ticked by.
A roar from somewhere in the palace tore both Shade’s and Thrash’s attention away from the still aftermath. On instinct, Shade had made it to the doorway with Gwinn, but she stopped him from going any further.
“I must stay,” she whispered to him.
Her tone was insane to Shade, considering the roars and now screams coming from the palace.
Shade didn’t bother to argue. His harsh stare said enough.
“It is the richest magic I have ever seen. It could be our path out.”
“We stay together,” Shade growled.
“I vow it,” she said planting her feet, promising him she’d only watch, and she’d do so from where she stood.
Shade passed a quick glance to Thrash. Thrash wasn’t moving either. Shade didn’t blame the guy, his world was in that room, a world that liked to vanish. He would’ve stayed too.
Shade moved double time through the palace, one hallway later he found Dagen on the floor in a fetal position. Shade was at his side trying to pull him up in the next beat. “What the fuck did she do to you?”
The scream from the other side of the door was his answer. Shade’s vim busted it open when the door swung wide he saw Agatha on the floor with Zosime who was in the same position.
Dagen made quick work of crawling toward her; he was upon them before Agatha said something that created a barrier that Dagen could not crawl through.
“You’re a witch too? What the hell is the problem? They’re hurting. They need each other.”
Agatha shot a cynical glare in his direction then went back to her stance over Zosime. “Not a witch by blood, I was taught my craft.”
“Evanthe,” Shade said in the way of answer, as he tried to figure out what the hell had turned Dagen’s day around. There wasn’t a mark on him, but he was thrashing as if he were getting the shit beat out of him.
“You,” Agatha said now daring to grin as she shook her head then moved her attention to Dagen. Whatever she was doing was only making it worse. Shade could see glowing words seeping into Dagen’s flesh.
Shade needed a fucking pause button, but fuck if he had one. What he did have was vim, and he used that bitch by seizing Agatha and then bringing her to her feet.
“Look here, female. I’m about over this shit. Why are you hurting him? Why the fuck do you and everyone else think I’m someone I’m not?”
Agatha didn’t bother to wince under the pressure. She was too busy watching the last of the words she had put into Dagen slip under the surface of his flesh.
“A blunt woman, I don’t intend to change such any time soon. You are who I assume you to be. Even though you’ve been gone for the better part of two hundred years, you haunt this place each time you fall into Zen. You chose this path.”
Shade kicked his chin up. “No one would choose to be mind-fucked.”
“Ah but they would, it would depend on the stakes, for you it has always been the love of your life, and your love for this dark universe. Home is not what you chose, it’s what you make it, your words, they are.”
Agatha glanced down as both Zosime and Dagen jolted in the same way, as if they were being beaten by the same hand. Agatha was making sure her magic was holding them. This attack on their Throng was not this pairs to fight. It belonged to the primordial, Scorpio. It was one of the last tricks in the bag of Akan’s evil. Akan knew if Scorpio ever found the power given by birthright the entire Throng would arrive—seeing the power as Scorpio had, as an enemy—they’d fight the beast, and destroy their power. How clever it was for Akan to set the stage for a primordial to destroy himself the way all mortals were known to do—fight and destroy themselves never seeing the gifts and lessons.
It was a ploy Shade had seen and warned Agatha about. He’d warned them all as he protected Agatha’s family. Agatha would never claim to know all, for Shade was a male with deep oceans worth of plights. However, Agatha was sure gauging the unsaid as well as the said words of males in her life was the only natural magic she had.
“Rising Gods left and right,” Agatha began, “kids winning blindly time and again, lurking beings with the power of an entire Throng, yet the dark gods only hunted one, thirsted for one. You. They knew you had a price. We all do. In time, they found your lover. If you had saved her, you would’ve ensured that the rising God of fear would never take her reign. The first victory for the dark gods would not be the last. You knew this, but you also did not believe any universe was worth the life of half your soul.” Agatha smiled weakly. “You fooled them. You had to let them kill you. In truth, they’ve only slain your awareness, a sacrifice as large as any life because you were the one there weaving the fates together, the angel for the promised tomorrows.”
She paused when the screams stopped, both Dagen and Zosime were lying weakly on the floor, catching their breath.
“You prepared for this,” Agatha said. “You trusted few with the knowledge of what you have done. You entrusted only my family to protect your fortress. In these walls, each of your conquests is recorded. I cannot show you where they are. You assured me you would find them. You said no matter the state of your mind, with the lady of the house you would not fail.”
Shade shook free the info drop with a sway of his head. “I will deal with you and this nonsense later. Right now, you will tell me what you did to them, what the fuck is going on down the hall.”
Agatha jutted her chin, a gesture for him to let her go.
“They should not touch. If they do, the gods will be aware they still exist.”
“The blind gods,” Shade chided. “This pair is not living the quiet suburban life, especially him.”
Agatha didn’t completely understand his terminology but felt confident she got the gist. “Aye, before the night is out the gods will be aware, I’m sure. I see no sense in giving them a head start and mucking up what has begun.” Agatha looked down at the couple. Dagen was crawling closer to Zosime, and no one made an effort to stop him, not even Zosime. “The words will hide them. They work best if said after this act, if said each time a touch is made, but for now, it’ll hold.”
“What happened? What did we do?” Shade demanded.
“We? I did nothing. You? From the sound of things, you let primordials power return to the realm of Gaia. Hopefully, my son had the good sense to let the knife go as well.”
“Good sense,” Shade repeated. Hoping it was good. “You see it this way?”
Agatha’s broad shoulders dipped, a motherly glint lingered in her eyes, “For the well-being of many, some must fall. It is the balance of the world.”
“Not my family...” Shade said weakly.
Agatha slanted her head. “Your family is under this roof...we are well as you vowed we’d be.”
The sick feeling in the pit of his gut decided it would plow its roots in.
Dagen had finally reached Zosime’s hand; he’d expected an explosion of emotions with one single touch. If he had not been listening to the chatter above him as he was getting his ass kicked he may have taken this lack of boom as a clear sign that whatever this was between them was left in another life.
Fucking spells!
Dagen pulled her body across the floor and nestled her against his. There may not have been a boom, but he had never been surer of where he belonged than he was then. Dagen’s hand reached for her face, then slid down easing the places he knew she had felt the phantom blows just before.