The Council

by BooksGoSocial Fantasy

  She shakes her head. “I thought for sure I heated up my grandmother’s soup yesterday, but I’m pretty sure she did it herself. My parents hate that she encourages me because they’re sure it’s not gonna happen for me.”

  “That’s a downer, but you can’t be discouraged. There’s still time,” I offer. “You could have a dream that spurs it.”

  She sighs and looks down at the textbook in her arms. “Yeah, I suppose so. Do you know how many times I’ve read through this book? I thought with the right mindset I could force myself to have powers.”

  “You can’t force it,” I try to remind her. “That could hurt more than help…our textbook even warns against it.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna stay UnEquipped, Lilith. Remember, my sister is…was…I’d bet money that’s my fate as well, despite what you and Grandmother say.”

  I tilt my head to one side. I know she’s right, but I can’t bring myself to agree with her out loud. I don’t want to see the devastation in her eyes that that would cause. I want her to work on her powers, to see what she can do until the deadline…even if there is no point to it.

  “Never say never, right?”

  “You’ve always been an oddball. It’s no wonder you’d gain powers out of all the UnEquipped in our class,” she teases.

  I smile in response, but I’m still uncomfortable about the topic. As a distraction, I bend down to pick up the fully-fixed vase.

  “Want to try taking some of that snarkiness out on this?” I suggest, placing it on the stone it had been sitting on a few minutes prior. “It’ll make you feel better, if nothing else.”

  Helena shrugs and sets her textbook to the ground before wringing her hands together. “Worth a shot, but I don’t know how well it’ll burn if I am able to do anything.”

  I nod and take a step away. Helena takes a deep breath, studying the object just as I had done. I watch her intently, hoping against the odds she’s wrong about being UnEquipped. I lift a hand to my chest, clutching it into a fist as I send a silent prayer for her. She mirrors the moves she had watched me use, eyes staring so intently at the object that I wonder if she’ll have a migraine later. After a few minutes of obvious effort, Helena’s shoulders slump in defeat.

  “You did your best,” I say, lowering the hand I held up.

  A massive gust of force flies toward the vase, launching it from the rock to where it once again shatters on the hardened ground. The shards are chaotic this time, more so than when I had first broken it. A good-sized piece frees itself from the rest of the rubble before it flies at me, opening an ugly gash down the length of my arm.

  I cry out in pain, holding out my elbow as the first beads of blood break through the skin. Staring at the ugly mark, my stomach churns with a mixture of emotions.

  “Oh, my God!” Helena gasps, dashing over to me. She holds a hand to me but is cautious not to touch me directly. “Heal it!”

  “I’m no shaman!” I screech, sinking to the ground. “Go get Ambrossi!”

  Helena hesitates for a moment, glancing between the blood on my arm and the broken vase on the ground before she takes off running across the field. I guess her thoughts, but with the pain I feel, it’s hard to think of anything else. I attempt to put the vase back together, but the pain makes sure I do a piss-poor job of it. I abandon the idea and clutch at my wound to try to stanch the bleeding, but the wound is too deep for it to have much of an effect.

  Staring at the crimson mark with a frown, it’s easy to see just how out of hand my powers have gotten. I should’ve been able to redirect the piece that had cut me, to stop it from coming close enough to cause damage, but I couldn’t, just as I couldn’t control the force that had broken the vase for a second time.

  How can my parents not know I’m developed if I can’t even keep the powers I cultivate under control for a minute? Is it possible they already know and are waiting for me to come to them with the truth rather than confront me? I stare at the cut with deep hatred. As if I wasn’t conflicted enough, they’ll be sure to know now regardless of if I’m ready for the conversation or not.

  I have no idea how I’ll explain to my parents why Ambrossi needed to be summoned without mentioning what I’m becoming. I can always make up something about my accident but that seems petty. I look up to see Helena running toward me, hand clutching Ambrossi’s tightly as she leads the way. He looks windblown and panicked, and I can imagine Helena only barking out pieces of the story leaving him unsure of what to expect.

  “This way!” I hear her call.

  Ambrossi lets go of Helena and hurries to approach me before dropping to his knees to study the wound on my arm.

  “How did this happen?” he demands, moving my hand gently off the laceration.

  “It was an accident,” I blurt out, quickly trying to scoot the vase—and the few unattended pieces—out of his view.

  “Lying to me, Lilith?”

  I keep my mouth shut as he utters a spell. Instantly, I feel the muscles and tendons that had been ripped open only moments prior being sewn back together with his magic. He stays silent, second hand hovering above the first, and a moment later, the wound closes over leaving a faint white scar behind.

  I look at it in relief before Ambrossi smiles at me, crinkling the crescent-moon shaped scar on his cheek. “All healed…now do I get the truth?” He folds his arms across his chest, blue eyes boring into mine.

  I smile at him nervously, looking at his spiky red hair to avoid making eye contact. I’m sure that makes him all the wiser to the fact I’m lying. I had known him for too long for him to not know. I glance at Helena once, and she folds her arms over her chest to mimic Ambrossi, looking uncertain whether she should add to the conversation or stay silent.

  “Is someone developing powers?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I try to think of a lie that could sufficiently explain the situation, but I draw a blank. As Helena had pointed out, the truth will be revealed tomorrow anyway. “Yes,” I say in defeat, “but they’re not what you’d expect.”

  “Surely you didn’t burn down a forest.” He chuckles.

  “I wish. Things would be easier if that were the case, but no, I don’t have pyrokinetic powers…more like telekinetic.”

  Ambrossi’s eyes grow wide, and he lifts a hand to pull at the black band around his neck. “Telekinesis…really?”

  “When they first developed, I hoped they would change somehow to a different power, but it seems that they’re only getting stronger…and in a way that I can’t control. What am I going to do?”

  “Nothing, if that’s what you choose. The Council will simply give you a choice of what you want to do, and where you want to live. Whatever you decide, they have to stand by.”

  “Yeah, but do my parents?”

  Ambrossi pulls his lips tight. “That’s a trickier question to answer.”

  “Do you think it’s possible to still develop pyro powers?” My tone is hopeful though I’m not sure why.

  “I’d say anything is possible with the way you study.”

  “I told you,” I say to Helena, sticking my tongue out at her.

  She smiles back, but it’s not genuine, and I can tell she’s lost in the depths of her mind.

  “Has your teacher told you anything about what to do?” Ambrossi asks.

  I shake my head. “That teacher was a joke. All he focused on was helping Equipped become even more Equipped if that’s possible.”

  “You can’t let it get to you. Something of his lesson must have worked. Or you figured out something he didn’t.”

  “Maybe, but Helena studies much more,” I muse with a glance toward my red-headed friend. “She should have powers too.”

  Helena lifts her eyebrows at the mention of her name and pulls her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t say anything as her gaze shifts to the ground.

  Of course it’s possible, but that doesn’t mean it’s likely, I think.

  �
�Well, while I have you, do you have any strong complaints about your leg?”

  I shake my head. “Did you guess that would be my excuse?”

  “I think I know you better than that. Now answer my question.”

  “I’ve been walking every day. No pain.”

  “You’re not wearing your amulet,” he points out.

  “Don’t need it.”

  “Let me see,” he demands.

  I sigh and shuffle my sitting position to reveal the wrinkled patch of pink skin that encircles my calf. Ambrossi runs a finger along it, uttering a spell meant to help with pain, and I silently wish his powers would be enough to heal it completely. But they aren’t—no shaman can reverse the damage done by magic.

  “Walk for me,” he orders.

  I nod and stand briskly to my feet using the aid of my telekinesis more than my own two feet for balance. I walk a few yards into the field and back; the limp that marks my usual gait makes its appearance much to my annoyance.

  “Despite the limp, you’re walking well,” he marvels as I sit back down beside him. “You should consider yourself lucky you didn’t lose your leg.”

  I smile at him, but it’s as fake as Helena’s had been. I don’t consider myself lucky for my limited ability to walk. Saying I’m lucky to walk is almost as bad as telling Helena she’s lucky to be powerless. Ambrossi is the worst at trying to console me for something he can never understand, but I let it go. He’s had to deal with my attitude a lot more than the others since he’s been responsible for me since the burn happened.

  Of all the things I can wish for, it’s for my Covenmates to understand that I’m not bitter. I’m confused. What should be a traumatic memory is an odd blank space that no one seems willing to fill. I want to know why I can’t do what comes easy to everyone else, but instead of answers, I have a mystery.

  All I can remember about the accident is the resulting burn that’s plagued me nearly my entire life. The burn had been deep enough to char the muscles and the bone, limiting its usefulness for the rest of my life.

  “I’m lucky for a lot of reasons,” I mutter, “but that’s not one of them.”

  He nods and looks at Helena, unwilling to further argue the point. “Will you be taking her home or should I do it?”

  “Yes, of course. It was sorta my fault she got hurt after all.”

  Ambrossi stands up and looks at me uncertainly as if he considers trying to help me stand. I frown at his concern and struggle to stand to my feet, desperate to show his pity is misplaced.

  “Will you tell my parents about this?” I ask, pointing at the pile of the broken vase a few feet away.

  “Not if you don’t want me to. It’s not as if you’ve been terribly injured, and it sounds as if you need to have a heart-to-heart with them. It’s not my place to intervene.”

  “I appreciate it. I’ll tell them everything…just in my own time and my own way.”

  “Clock’s ticking on that though,” Helena adds.

  I ignore her as I continue. “I don’t know how I’ll do it yet, but I know that this is not it,” I say, putting the rest of the pieces of the vase together with my mind before I pick it up.

  Ambrossi smiles at my demonstration. “That’s impressive. Even if you can’t control it well yet, you’re growing more powerful by the day. If you insist on keeping a low profile, then I suggest you take this.” He hands me a clear packet containing green sludge. “And of course be careful of any more accidents today.”

  “What’s this?” I ask, scrunching my forehead as I toss the vase to the ground and squeeze the gift from Ambrossi gently. It looks like something Helena’s cat would’ve thrown up, and if I’m meant to eat it, I can only imagine it tastes the same way.

  “It’s a poultice to get rid of that scar so your parents don’t get suspicious.”

  I look at him through eyes shining with my gratitude. “I can always count on you.” My gaze shifts to the ground for a long moment. Through my hair I notice Ambrossi frown.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but magical wounds are different, burns especially. The poultice won’t work for it.”

  “Fine.” I shove the pouch into the tiny pocket I had sewn into the side of my dress and try to clear the emotions off my face before Ambrossi or Helena have the chance to say something else upsetting.

  “It was good seeing you again,” he calls to Helena, then he turns to me. “If you need me, Lilith, don’t hesitate to come find me, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” I say, knowing it’s a promise I won’t keep.

  Helena smiles as he begins to walk away. “It’s too bad he’s old,” she drawls.

  I scoff at the ludicrous suggestion. “Helena, whatever you’re thinking, he’s a member of Alchemy, but if you are thinking what I assume you are, he’s not that old. He’s only twelve years older than us.”

  Helena shrugs. “It’s not too bad, I suppose. How’s your arm?”

  “Better,” I reply, holding it up so she can see the fresh scar against my pale skin.

  “If I were you, I would’ve left the wound. It would’ve been the easiest way to tell them…if you still plan on doing that tonight of course.”

  “That’s the idea, but I don’t know how dedicated my nerves are to going through with it.”

  “They’ll be ecstatic…you’re Equipped.”

  “Not in the way I should be.”

  Helena shrugs. “So what? They’ll be proud regardless. I know my parents would be.”

  The sadness in her voice kills me. Just keep practicing, I think, and I want to say it, but I stop myself. I hate that line—Ambrossi fed it to me like protein when I had to learn how to walk for the second time. Not once did it make me feel better, and I assume it will have the same level of indifference for Helena.

  I set my hand on her shoulder, trying to pour comfort into my actions instead.

  She looks at me with a reassured smile. “You’re so strong…even for a cripple.”

  “Shut up!” I shove her playfully before I glance at the vase on the ground she barely manages to avoid stepping on. “Be careful. We don’t want to have to summon Ambrossi again so soon.”

  Helena laughs and looks down at her feet. “Maybe not.”

  “I’m not ready to go home yet,” I say.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I think I just need to go for a walk…alone if you don’t mind.”

  “I understand,” she says, bending down to scoop up her textbook. She brushes the dirt away from its cover before staring at it the way a mother would look at her newborn child. “I need to get back to studying anyway. Time is short.”

  I nod, and she turns to begin walking away, leaving me to study the contrast of her bright orange hair to the green dress she’s wearing.

  I admire her determination, I think as I turn to go in the opposite direction. I can only hope for her sake that it pays off.

  Chapter Three

  Friendly Animosity

  BY THE TIME I make it to Fern’s oasis, the moon sits high overhead. My breath billows into the chilly air as I squint to better see through the shadows. The intensity of the light makes the water appear almost silver. I shiver and wrap my arms across my chest and skirt the edge of the small body of water, cautious of stepping too close.

  Even though this is the only bit of water in Ignis, I have never been a fan of it. My parents told me a long time ago there had been trials involving water, a time when witches were persecuted, bound, and tossed into the largest nearby body of water to see if they would sink or swim.

  If I had lived back then, I would’ve drowned due to the simple fact my leg would’ve been unable to save me—no rock required.

  I stand at the base of the biggest tree that sits on the edge of the oasis. A tiny rounded hole, like one made by a mouse, sits at eye level. I tap my fist beside it and take a step back. A moment later, a tiny face pops out to look at me curiously. Shoulder-length green hair curls around Fern’s shoulders as she pulls her s
mall body through the rest of the way and opens her large, curled fern-like wings, smiling as she does so.

  “Lilith! Why so glum?” she asks, tilting her head to the side and lights down on my shoulder.

  I look at the fairy for a long moment, noting the way her aura shines in the dark. The tiny weight of her body is comforting and helps me decide exactly how to bring up the topic of my powers. If anyone can help me with my problem, it’s her.

  “What’s this?” She runs a small finger along the ugly white line down my arm before she looks up at me through curious ice-blue eyes.

  “I-I had an accident,” I say quickly, just the same as I had done to Ambrossi. It’s foolish, lying to her, but I suddenly feel uncomfortable telling her the truth. I reach into my pocket to grab the pouch of salve Ambrossi had given me, and I pass it to her through shaking fingers.

  “You saw Ambrossi today?” She pauses. “Ah, developing powers, are we?”

  “Yeah…but I’m not sure of them…of myself. The powers aren’t what I wanted…or expected.”

  Fern tears the packet open with her teeth before she looks at me. “You studied the Runes books so hard…I thought you’d be ecstatic to see them manifest into something and just in time for the Ceremony too.”

  “I am, but it’s not as simple as that,” I say as Fern begins to smear the salve down the length of my arm. I shiver at the chill of it and turn my nose away to keep from inhaling the heavy plant odor.

  “Oh?”

  I bite my lip and stare into the shadows.

  “This is a pretty nasty scar,” she breathes. “I’m gonna guess you broke something.”

  “The power, it’s telekinetic. I can’t exactly control it.”

  Fern pauses to glance up at me. “Have you read the entire book yet? There should be a page or two pertaining to restraint.”

  “I feel like I’ve read it a hundred times and the only thing I remember is restraint for powers of your own Coven. The subject of cross-Coven powers isn’t even covered.”

  Fern looks at the tiny packet, seeing how much of the salve is left and hands it to me before she flutters into the air. “That’s because it being a permeant thing is very, very rare. I wouldn’t worry yourself too much. It’s not uncommon to have a surge of powers when things first come to light.”