Foresight

by Larsen, Patti

  “Heya, Zo,” he says, voice high-pitched and wobbly.

  I grit my teeth and rattle his bars, acutely aware of the sound of danger getting closer. Ash hisses at me while I test the power around the cell with my own. It tries to pull in my fire and I can only imagine it’s keeping Piers nice and docile. But even as my mind grapples with a plan, Piers sits up slowly, shaking his head, coming into focus.

  “Don’t do it.” He holds up one trembling hand, the other pressed to his forehead. “If you try to come in, Belaisle’s power will just trap you, too.”

  My aunt lets out a curse and runs down the cell block. I hear her retreat, feel the soft displacement of air and the whoosh of flame as she attacks someone. This is wrong, I need to fight with her, but she’s giving me the chance to free Piers and I can’t waste it.

  I reach through the bars, the slick feeling of the shielding sliding over my skin like a glove. “Take my hand.”

  He shakes his head. “Just leave me, Zoe,” he says. “Go warn Syd.”

  Doesn’t he understand I can’t abandon him here? “I need you.” The words grunt from me as I push harder against the shield. Is it giving, just a little bit? I call up flame, contain it in my own sorcery, black flames eating at the wards. A shiver of sizzling sparks bursts, the new power inside me waking and answering the call. It knows this magic keeping me from Piers, knows it intimately. It’s been unable to fight against the power, which kept it prisoner, that siphoned it to death.

  That is, until now. I let it loose, tied to my fire, and feel the flames roar forth. Black fire bursts before me, devouring the power holding Piers at bay. I can feel him in it, feel it eating him alive and, with a snarl of rage at the defilement, I sever the connection and throw all of his power back to him.

  Piers rocks on his hips, eyes coated black a moment before his head snaps forward, lips tight and grim. He leaps to his feet, wincing and hugging his damaged side, but he’s alive and powerful again. And free.

  The flames want to live on, but I smother them, stuffing them down, and they finally retreat, sulky, angry. I’ve never felt them this way before, with darkness wound through them and I wonder what I’ve done freeing Piers from his prison.

  He comes to me, grasps my hand, the way now open for him. I look up the hall, catch sight of Ash retreating at a run, blackness reaching for her and throw out flame in her path. She vanishes into it, heading for I don’t know where, but at least she’s free. Liander appears through the wisps of smoke that remain, running for me with a shout on his lips, Kayden at his side, but they are too late. I see him clearly now, as the thief and liar he is, the weakling standing on the shoulders of others. A parasite, with no true power of his own, the real curse of the Brotherhood. I point at him with grim intent at the same instant I flare with fire and take Piers with me into the blaze.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Two

  This ride through the flames feels off, different, the heat burning me, dragging me down with need and hunger as powerful as that of the sorcery that held Piers. I realize my mistake almost too late. I’ve absorbed some of Liander’s magic, taken into me that which I’ve come to despise and it is fighting me for control.

  Is this how it feels to be one of them? How can they live with themselves? I battle the urge to devour everything, to emerge from the fire and feed and feed until the entire world dies. This is wrong, so wrong, and yet it feels like a dream I wish I could live forever.

  Sparks sizzle and pop, sliding along the edges of the black, burning it away, sending it scrambling, trying to escape as the fire I’ve come to know roars and crackles and eats the sorcery alive. The power that was Gaia surges inside me, pushing back the black, finally crushing it as I grasp tight to Piers and hurl us from the flames.

  ***

  I wake in a cool room, a soft breeze washing over me from an open patio door. White, gauzy curtains flap gently over the end of the bed, crisp sheets scented with lemon and the aroma of a summer’s night. Something warm and firm lies under my cheek, my hand, and I open my eyes to find I’ve been using Piers’s bare chest as a pillow.

  I don’t want to move. It would be lovely to savor this moment, but I as I lift my head and look out into the sunset of evening, I realize I’ve lost most of the day. We’re out of time to stop the Brotherhood, to save Syd as I promised Iepa I would. Or are we? Disorientation and lost hours make me slightly woozy. I tip my head, look up to find Piers smiling at me, hand rising to slip through my hair and all of my worry goes away, if only for a moment.

  He bends his long neck, kisses me, silken hair brushing my cheek. He feels strong again, and as my hands travel over his ribs, healed and whole.

  “What happened?” I sit up, find myself still dressed in my T-shirt and jeans. Someone tucked us into bed, it seems.

  “You saved my skinny behind,” he says, voice amused, though threads of worry remain.

  I shiver, slipping from the bed, thinking of Ash. “Has my aunt showed up?” Where did I send her? Where am I? Was she able to grasp the fire I offered and make her own destination? I wasn’t even thinking, just needed to give her a way out. I have no idea if she was even able to use my flame.

  Piers climbs out of bed himself, slips on a long-sleeved shirt, long fingers making short work of the buttons. “I don’t know,” he says. “Let’s go find out.”

  Haste and anxiety push me to keep going, though I’m weary, so tired and ready for this to be over. And it will be, soon, if my visions are correct. If I’m wrong we’re too late, if haven’t already missed my window. This could already be over and I don’t even know it.

  When I emerge from the bedroom, it’s with such speed I almost collide with a beautiful, dark skinned woman who lets out a small shriek as I pull to a halt just in time. She grasps my shoulder in one hand with a quick exhale, smiling up at Piers who grasps her in his arms and hugs her tight.

  “Tallah.” He lets her go. “How did you find us?”

  “The message you sent was clear enough,” she says, eyes locked on me. “You’ve been here for hours. I was just coming to see if I could wake you.”

  I wish she’d come sooner.

  Piers performs the introductions, while Tallah shakes my hand. I feel power in her and know before he tells me she’s a witch. I’m soon seated at her kitchen counter with a cup of hot coffee in my anxious hands while a small group of her coven join us. They watch and listen as Piers fills them in on the little he knows, guesses mostly I can only assume he gleaned from the questions Liander asked him during his torture. Finally he turns to me when he runs out of things to say.

  I’m tongue tied, nervous, just want to hurry up and go after Liander before he can enact his plan. But worse, I can’t do it alone. How much can I trust them? I’m still hesitant, urgency a harsh counter point, when Piers takes my hand.

  “It’s okay,” he says. “They love Syd.”

  Syd. Just the sound of her name makes me tremble, the flames pushing forward, the intensity of the vision so close I know we’re almost out of time. “She’s in danger.” I don’t mean to blurt, but the words escape before I can stop them. Tallah nods, grim faced.

  “I’ve been trying to reach her.” She gestures behind her. “We all have. With no luck.”

  Piers frowns, hand tight on mine. “Did you try going to Wilding Springs directly?”

  Tallah nods, the woman beside her bobbing her head in time, short, black hair shiny in the lights of the kitchen.

  “Several times.” She looks at Tallah.

  “Anna and I both went,” Tallah says, full mouth tight with worry. “It’s like when we try to travel, we get bounced back.”

  “Erica?” I have no idea who that is, but Tallah just grunts and shrugs.

  “I’ve been trying to reach her, too,” she says, voice sharp. “But our esteemed Council Leader is unavailable.”

  That sounds very bad to me. And reminds me of one of my visions. “Is she blonde?” A sick feeling jabs me in the stomach. “At Harvar
d?”

  Tallah stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I want to scream at her to pay attention. “Erica Plower,” she says. “The Leader of the North American Witches Council. And yes, her office is at Harvard.”

  I lean forward, grasp her hand, my fingers digging into her flesh. “Listen to me,” I say, panic almost winning, making it hard to focus as everything slides into place. All my visions coming together into a whole that brings terror to my heart. While I can’t trust what I’ve seen, I am certain Liander’s guidance of the seeking from the night before was accurate. He wouldn’t deceive himself, after all. “You can’t trust her any longer. And if Liander is allowed to complete his plan, there will be terrible consequences.” Fire and blood and death. I now understand the stakes, the flames. Witches, burning. Iepa’s warning about a war coming.

  Tallah’s face pales, goes gray. I release her, the blaze inside me rising, surging, fighting for control. I push back from the counter, the stool I sat on crashing to the floor behind me, but no one moves to help, to touch me. Smoke rises from my skin, my vision turning gold around the edges as the fire tries to drag me under.

  Only the steady, supportive stare of Piers’s gray eyes holds me here. I latch onto him, to his power, use him as a lifeline as my whole being tries to burn up. His sorcery doesn’t feed from me, but holds me steady, encapsulates and insulates me until I can finally, painfully, crush the magic inside me and regain control.

  I bend in half as it eases off, mouth open, panting air into my lungs. “Something is wrong,” I whisper, though I don’t know if anyone hears but me.

  Tallah lurches to her feet, blue fire flaring around her. “I’m getting to the bottom of this once and for all,” she says. As her power flickers and goes out.

  She stares at her hands a long moment, shock on her face so genuine I feel terrible for her.

  “Tallah.” Anna joins her, feeds her power, but with the same result. I feel their magic leaving them, and choke on the truth.

  “It’s too late,” I say, doing my best not to let them hear the wail building in my head. “He’s already begun.”

  They stare at me with growing horror.

  “He has.” My mother steps through the open patio doors and meets my eyes, her small band of rebels behind her. “And we have little time if we want to stop him.”

  Tallah and her people react protectively, but their power seems to fizzle out as they try to shield themselves. The coven leader’s distress is obvious, though Piers puts himself physically between me and my mother as Baird steps forward, antagonism so clear in his body language I’m sure everyone in the room feels threatened.

  “Where is Ash?” It’s his only question and makes me wonder what their connection might be. I push past Piers, beyond worrying about Baird and the others not liking me, my whole focus on my mom.

  “What’s happening?” Tallah’s hands are shaking, her people gathering around her. My mother’s grim expression worries me even more. “Why can’t we use our magic?”

  My mother shrugs. “Liander’s plan,” she says, like that explains everything. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do for you. Zoe.” She turns to me like they aren’t in the room, like we’re not standing in Tallah’s house. My mother’s casual wave dismisses the danger the witches are in while my heart clenches against her. “We need to go before it’s too late.”

  “It’s already too late,” I snap at her. “If he’s started what he set out to do, we need to find a way to stop him.”

  She shakes her head, stubbornness in her dark eyes. I look very much like her, though time and worry have worn lines around my mother’s lips and furrowed her brow, threading sparkling silver through her hair. “I have seen it,” she says, as though we’re the only two people in the room. “Years ago, Zoe. The time has come. And no one matters, nothing matters. But you.”

  I feel the animosity of the group she’s brought, look up to see Baird glaring at me with hateful eyes. Is this why they despise me, why they fear me? Some foresight my mother had so long ago it could have changed course well before now?

  But when I turn back to her, I see the conviction in my mother’s gaze, the way she stares at me. I know what that look means.

  “How many times have you had the same vision?” It’s a hard question to ask.

  “More times than I can remember,” she says, voice steady, level, hand reaching out to me. “And if you don’t come with me right now, Zoe, it will come to pass.”

  “What is it?” I must know. I can’t just walk out of here, abandon these people who have tried to help me, not without understanding everything.

  Mother hesitates, but Baird’s voice crackles through our mutual silence.

  “Show her,” he rumbles. “And let’s finally be free of this, Leyea.”

  Her power opens to me and I seize her flames. My mother flinches, eyes wide, as I take control of her magic and force myself into her mind. I don’t mean to be cruel or hurtful, but I’m tired of being lied to, of being told part of what I need to know. She surrenders to me as I dig deep for the vision—

  —You stand over her dying body, Syd crumpled and empty, as she withers in the flame, your power engulfing the entire world, drawing on all the magic around you, until you rise, flaring into giant being, and consume the world—

  —But even as it happens, this vision shifts, adjusts, shimmers at the edges. You step back from her, hold her off with power as she stares at you with fear in her eyes, the flames singing the grass of her back yard, the flames devouring you from the inside out as you rise into the sky and scream your life away into the fire—

  My mother falls back from me with a cry, hands over her face, skin and clothing smoking, a small fire starting in her hair. She ignores it as Baird rushes to her, sorcery crushing the flames as he curses softly under his breath. But my mother continues to stare at me, now crying, weeping as she covers her mouth with her shaking hands.

  “You’ve changed it,” she whispers.

  I shake my head, heart pounding. “No,” I say, understanding the dual vision. “I’ve divided it.” I reach for more flame, though I sense the edge of temptation is close and that I might not come back from it this time. But I must know all of the story. Instead of keeping it to myself, I reach for all of them, the witches, my mother and her group, Piers. I have no idea if this will work, but we all need to see the stakes—

  —You watch, detached and distant, as Liander goes to war with the dragons. But this time there is no shining woman riding the back of their leader, no flare of rainbow light. The mighty creatures fall, one by one, crushed under his magic until they are no more while the maji—for it must be they, Iepa weeping among them—watch and do nothing—

  She is to be the savior, you send to the others and they echo their agreement as the vision unfolds. Without her, all is lost.

  —Los Angeles is on fire, flames raging through the normal world while flaring piles of witches burn, stakes jutting into the uncaring sky, the ground barren and laid waste in darkness.

  To another place, where a red-skinned race with curving black horns lie dead, the Brotherhood in their black robes drawing the life from a tear-shaped energy source, as it sings its final song of agony.

  To a green space where a massive storm wreaks havoc, wind tearing at the falling fairy race who collapse and decay before your eyes, the Brotherhood there, always there, to devour the energy of their death.

  Cities, towns on fire, a pale-skinned Queen fading to a mummy and then to dust, a giant werewolf crushed and bled dry at the foot of his throne. The world is on fire, the expended power swept into a spinning, central vortex, everything light and good sucked dry until only emptiness remains.

  To a tiny chamber, made of stone, and a gold-gilt sarcophagus covered in rainbow light. You drift closer, look inside, and see her face, her eyes closed, hands folded over her breast, Syd’s power lost at last to the Brotherhood.

  And finally a boy with red-blonde hair and eyes th
at flash green, standing next to a gap in the Universe as darkness approaches—

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Three

  The fire flares, hitting me like a slap across the face as I pull free of the vision to the sound of weeping. My mother’s face is in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She looks so tiny, so vulnerable, I can’t resist going to her, putting my arms around her, whispering to her soothing sounds until she stills.

  “All this time,” she chokes against my shoulder as she embraces me at last, “I believed you would be the end of all of us, Zoe. But I couldn’t bear to harm you.” She shivers as she pulls away and looks up into my eyes. “Every vision I had led to the same place—no matter how much I wanted to change it—to you destroying the Universe.” She steps away from me, both hands wiping angrily at tears on her face. “Now I see he was manipulating me, too. Though how, I don’t know.”

  “I do.” My mind goes to Gaia and her final gift. “Through the power he stole. Through Gaia’s magic. He and his kind have been influencing our visions for centuries, since Sibyl sold us out to them.” Leyea stares, shock on her face. “But it doesn’t matter, not anymore. We have to help these people, Mother.”

  She nods quickly, gestures to Baird who is, for the first time, rather contrite when he finally meets my eyes. “We have to find Liander,” she says. “And I know where to start.”

  Tallah steps forward, scowling, hands clasped tightly together. “We’re coming with you.”

  I don’t allow protest. “This is our fight,” I say. “All of us.” And no one argues with me.

  Piers grabs my hand as I call up the flame. Mother stares at me and I realize I no longer need my lighter, haven’t required it for some time now. She shakes her head, but tries a little smile and I smile in return.

  “To the sanctuary,” I say, and dive into the fire.

  It releases me easily, eagerly even and I wonder if it wants Liander found as much as I do. Makes sense, ultimately, considering his plan will mean the end of all other magicks. I can only hope we are in time to make sure his plans don’t succeed.