Why am I able to hear you, to hear thoughts? I ask, reaching up to scratch my ear. I come from an UnEquipped home in Ignis. No powerful influence to learn from—certainly no one from Mentis to teach me something like this.
I’m sure you’ve figured this out already but you’re not who they say you are.
My eyes grow wide with the feeling she knows more about me than she says. “What do you mean?” I blurt out and clamp a hand over my mouth as Lynx’s eyes shift over to me.
“You say something?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Before I have the chance to reply, Hyacinth stands to her feet. I look up at her to see the pure horror in her violet eyes. Her lips part as if she’s about to speak, but she says nothing, and I can tell she’s reading a thought, though no sounds enter my mind. I strain to pick up anything but give up when I remember Crowe’s words—she can hear thoughts a remarkable distance away.
She rushes over to Lynx; her petite footsteps barely make a sound across the tiled floor. Her hands rest on his shoulders, and he looks up at her through uncertain aquamarine eyes. He can see the panic in her eyes as well but waits patiently for her to speak.
“Callista is in trouble!” she says, voice quivering with her panic.
Lynx nods in understanding, standing to his feet, and rushes out the door. Hyacinth stays beside his chair, watching him go with her hands clasped together in front of her chest. I shake off the shock of her statement, and I rush to move—a moment behind Lynx—when I feel Hyacinth’s hand on my shoulder.
“Where are you going?” she asks out loud.
“To help,” I reply and race off as quickly as I can into the night.
I don’t see Lynx again as I do my best to speed across the Grove. I open my mind to listen for voices again and pinpoint the location to Callista and Thorn’s home among the reeds. I hurry toward the point in the river where Crowe had taken me. I begin to pant for breath, tripping hopelessly over my bad leg, but I’m determined to show strength. I’m sure there will be other emergencies during my time on The Council but this is the first one I’ve seen and I want to be on top of it.
Despite the twin points of pain in my leg and lungs, I don’t stop as I draw closer to the break in the line of trees. I hear commotion up ahead, but I don’t hesitate as I emerge on the riverbank. Lynx is already there, crouched on his knees. My eyes dart everywhere to gather in the scene before me. It’s a moment before I realize Callista is lying on the ground in front of Lynx, her tiny eyes closed and her body limp. Her radiant pink wings are faded and almost see through as they lay across the ground beneath her.
My hand flies to my mouth, and Lynx nods at my presence.
“I-is she—” I begin.
“Dead?” Thorn guesses. She’s near the scene, a foot above Callista with her arms crossed. Her midnight black wings blend into the night as her eyes shift between me, Lynx, and Callista. Although her face seems empty of emotions, I notice a sparkle in her eyes akin to grief.
I nod reluctantly, and Thorn shakes her head. I let out a breath of relief as I ask, “What happened to her?”
“The water, someone’s poisoned it,” Crowe’s voice drifts from the foliage a few feet away.
“Did she drink it?” I prod, tearing my gaze from Thorn to look at Crowe.
“No, she connects to nature…the river especially. As long as the river is damaged, it’ll make her sick,” Thorn explains with a glance down at her friend.
“Will she be able to recover?” I direct my gaze to Lynx as the question passes my lips.
He glances up at me with sorrowful creases on his face. I don’t have to read his mind to know his thought—it doesn’t look good for her.
“Why would they do this?” I demand, balling my hands into fists. “She hasn’t hurt anyone.”
Crowe shrugs, a frown on his face as he glances up and down the length of the river. “To hurt them?” he states, pointing to the two fairies a few feet away before he cocks his head to the side. “To hurt us? I don’t know.”
“Do you know who did it?” I catch his eyes in the darkness.
He shakes his head. “If I had to guess, I’d say someone working with Iris.”
My heart begins to pound in my chest at his words. If the people Iris worked with came this close to The Council, I have a feeling I’m involved somehow. Just because I’m a part of the governing Coven doesn’t mean they’ll back down. I’m unsure what to feel in this moment, and I rush to cover up my thoughts in case Hyacinth is listening.
“It hasn’t spread far yet,” Crowe adds.
“Callista just collapsed about ten minutes ago,” Thorn chimes in.
“Then the culprit is close,” I say, narrowing my eyes as I study Callista’s tiny form once again in the shadows. In the back of my mind, I remember her helping me the day we met, and I begin to rush down the riverbank without conscious thought of doing so, desperate to find the person responsible for hurting her.
“Wait! You may be heading into a trap!” Crowe calls, but I ignore it.
I hear his footsteps trailing behind me, but they’re insignificant. His mind is split between stopping me and helping me catch who’s responsible. There’s no such conflict in my head. I want to catch them, to hurt them for what they did. I don’t know Callista well, but I’ve always had a soft spot for fairies.
Rage makes my vision blend red as I storm through the night. I try to focus on the task at hand, but all my mind does is conjure images of Callista’s critical state before shifting to Fern to further fuel my rage. If someone had hurt her, I would literally torture them to death. This situation won’t be much different.
I plan to use my powers to tear each of their limbs off. If the culprit turns out to be a male, that means an additional unpleasant surprise for him. I hear rustling up ahead, and I’m tensed to pounce—my powers primed to be used at a moment’s notice. I rush through the foliage, ready for conflict, and freeze as a girl looks up at me. She appears to be a year or two older than me. Short brown hair curves around her face and her eyes—the same color as her hair—peer at me in surprise from her triangular face.
She hadn’t expected to get caught.
Her face softens as she catches sight of me. I stare at her with all the rage I can muster—pictures of Callista fueling me onward again—prepared to freeze her in place with my telekinesis, when I suddenly feel all the malice in my heart begin to drain from me. The attack I had been about to send, dissipates back into energy. The longer I stand here, the calmer I begin to feel. With the peace in my heart and mind, it’s hard to believe how angry I had been only a minute before…I can’t even remember the reason for my rage.
Something’s not right, I think to myself, trying to figure out how to break the spell. I can’t move as I look at her again, knowing she’s behind the strange sensation. The only thing I can work is my mind, and I try to use it to pick through her thoughts for a way to fight to freedom, but find it cautiously closed.
“You’ll thank me for this later,” she whispers before she dips her head in farewell, pulling her hood over her chocolate-colored hair before running away into the thick foliage without a glance back.
I’m rooted to the spot, feeling no need to chase her, no need to even respond to the odd confrontation I just experienced. I watch her go in a daze as the shadows swallow up the remaining glimpse of her black cloak, oddly carefree as I move to head back down the river the way I had come. When I turn, I bump right into Crowe, and by the look in his eyes, I know he saw me let the witch go.
He is not happy.
Chapter Twenty
Repercussions
“YOU LET HER go?” The Sage asks, raising her eyebrows as she leans on her desk to look at me WITH no hint of surprise or disappointment in her voice. Her eyes study me, and I want to pry into her mind to see what she's thinking when I decide better of it.
That might only make my situation worse.
Despite my anxiety, a bit of tension leaves my shoulders at t
he absence of anger in her tone. I breathe in deep through my nose and risk a glance up at Crowe. His arms are folded tight across his chest, and his face is stoic as he stands beside me. He's in the same mood he had been after introducing me to The Advisory Council of Fairies—the mood that had caused him to shove me to the ground and morph into a bear. In this case, I don't blame him for his anger, but he didn't understand the situation I had been put in.
He had barely spoken to me in the time it took him to drag me from the river back to Headquarters. The entire time I had desperately tried to explain to him what happened, but he wouldn't hear it. I know what the punishment is for a traitorous act to The Council—death, just like they had done to Willow. I try to pick his thoughts for signs of mercy but even my clairvoyance isn't enough to tell what thoughts run through his mind.
“I don’t know what came over me. I-I—” I try to defend myself when The Sage lifts a weathered hand to stop me.
A hint of her smile touches her lips. "l understand they’re a powerful group."
I scrunch my face in confusion. "I'm sorry, who's ‘they’?"
"The Elemental Coven," she replies, lowering her hand back to her desk.
I'm silent as I glance between her and Crowe for some sort of explanation. Crowe does not seem surprised by the news, and I'm sure he's heard about them before which leaves me to wonder why he never said a word to me. Before the Arcane Ceremony, I had never heard of The Council having enemies—especially an enemy that could have an even fight with them.
"Iris White...she was one of them," The Sage answers. "We haven't seen hide nor tail of the Elemental's work in years. Iris was cast out from Ignis what seems like ages ago."
"Why?" I ask. "l never heard of a witch being exiled before...l didn't know The Council even did that."
"In cases of extreme non-cooperation, we don't have any other choice. While Iris didn't commit any crimes in her time in Ignis, she was nasty—her Covenmates feared her. She refused to go to lessons, skipped the Arcane Ceremony, and neglected her Coven duties. We had no choice."
I blink at her, and in my mind, things begin to make sense. It's unsettling to know that Iris had told me something of the truth—about herself at least. I already knew Iris didn't work alone, but apparently her attack on The Arcane Ceremony wasn't the first move seen by their group. Why had they scooped her up, and how long have they been around anyway? I chew my lip as I realize her status in the group is the real reason The Council had proceeded to execute her as quickly as they had, not because of my interaction with her as I had feared.
Something in me tells me this is the only chance I'll get to ask the questions on my mind, and I seize it. "She came to the ceremony to stop it," I said pointedly, tapping my finger against my bottom lip. "Why would they want to do that? What could they have to gain by hurting me and Tarj?"
"The Elemental Coven has hidden in the shadows for a long time," The Sage begins and leans back in her chair. "Such a time has passed that I had assumed they were no more. Most of them have a variety of deadly abilities, making them especially dangerous in combat."
"Who are they? Surely they didn't just appear out of thin air."
"Rogues. Witches that left the guidance of The Council for whatever reason. Many of them are unknown and just a few, like Iris, we have tabs on."
I furrow my brow as her words sink in. They could be hundreds, even thousands, in number, and The Council is only made of us five and The Sage. I wonder why they don't just attack us to get it over with—they’d win by sheer force alone.
I think back to Iris again, remembering her use of both pyrokinetic and telekinetic powers. A sense of foreboding runs through me—are they all capable of using multiple powers? If so, what does that say about me for being able to do the same? Did The Council recruit me because they thought I was a spy for them? I swallow roughly; Tarj catching me visiting her the night before her execution probably didn't help.
"So what do they want?" I prompt, trying to mask the thoughts in my brain before The Sage can pick up on them. In my time on the Grove, nobody has mentioned that little incident, and I know better than to rip open the wound.
"The treaty broken," she replies simply.
"You mean the one governing the division between Covens?" I ask, jaw slackening.
"They’re savages," Crowe mutters, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye to see the unamused expression back on his face.
"The very same," The Sage replies, folding her hands together in front of her. "The Elemental Coven believe the treaty hurts us more than it helps. They believe the Covens could live in harmony, benefiting one another."
My lips part a bit as I prepare to ask my next question. "How do you know what they want?”
"Their attacks haven't gone by without clues here and there. I'm sure you noticed the things Iris said about The Council during the attack you witnessed."
I dip my head at the memory before I frown and purse my lips. "But that's a foolish goal. The Covens would kill each other…we're not meant to blend," I state, remembering the lectures of the wars we had been taught about in class that led to the formation of the treaty.
“That’s why we’re training as hard as we are to stop them. They can’t be allowed to win,” Crowe says, reaching up a thumb to swipe across his lips.
The Sage is silent as she watches me struggle with the new information and I feel her prodding my mind.
It makes sense that the Elemental Coven would target the ceremony created to separate us. I stick my tongue in my cheek, wondering how Thorn and Callista tie in. They aren't witches—they aren't bound by the treaty in the manner we are—why hurt them? Is it simply because they’re considered part of The Council...or is there something deeper to the story that I haven't been told?
"So why poison the river?" I question, drawing my eyebrows together in thought.
The Sage shrugs once. "Hard to tell for sure, but if I had to guess, I would say that they wanted us gone and thought that would be the easiest way to go about it. They must either have not counted on the fairies informing us or didn't know about them. They most likely intended for us to drink the water. Without a Council to enforce the treaty, it can be destroyed much easier."
"And you let her go. Now she's able to plot the next thing against us. Way to go," Crowe sneers, curling his lip in disgust as he stares down at me.
My emotions are torn between wanting to slap Crowe and not wanting to enrage The Sage knowing my execution could be a distant possibility still. "l couldn't control myself," I stutter desperately, trying to explain what I'm sure The Sage sees as a traitorous act. I can't find the words to describe what happened. Instead, I pull up the memory of the sensation that had swept through me and display it inside The Sage's mind. Part of me wishes I could do the same to Crowe, but he'll just have to get over himself.
The Sage lifts a hand to cup her ancient chin. "l understand why you have done what you did."
"You do?" I wonder, hope in my chest as I pull the memory away at the same time that Crowe stutters, "What?"
"Your ability to read minds leaves you as exposed to them as they are to you." A soft look captures her face. "Really, I should have warned you about the consequences that come with your gift."
"Wait? Read minds?" Crowe asks, holding out a hand and takes a step forward. He pauses and with wide green eyes, his gaze darts to me. I turn to glance at him, unsure of what to say as he hovers above me, torn between awe and anger.
"Yes, Crowe, she is developing a good balance of powers," The Sage murmurs calmly, trying not to fuel the stream of emotions in my mentor.
Crowe's jaw hangs open, and I see the question on his lips though he does not speak. I wonder if he knows what it feels like to have his mind read, and I push away his concern as I focus on him. With the look on his face, I can't help prod his mind for information.
She can't even harvest the powers from her own Coven, his thought spits. Why is it that nothing she does makes sense?
/> I bite my lip to keep myself from making a retort. As the rage washes away, I'm suddenly in agreement with him. I wish he would raise the point to The Sage—I would love to hear the answer—but I know that if I ask it out loud, he'll know I read his mind and will most likely use effort to cloud his thoughts from now on.
"Why does it seem that I can only accurately wield powers from Mentis?" I inquire, rolling my shoulders to shift my weight slightly.
The Sage narrows her eyes to slits as if she's thinking. "The accident, from your childhood," she begins. "Because it's magically damaged, it's possible the wound to your leg harvests the pyro powers you would have been able to use with ease."
"B-but that doesn't make sense!" I wail, running my hands through my hair.
"It's very simple," The Sage says, tilting her head slightly. "You were born with the ability to use pyrokinesis, just as somewhere within you, you hold the ability to use a variety of other powers. When you were hurt, your body tried to protect itself from further harm by sealing the wound with the powers most fitting to the damage. It might've worked too well, however, and may have completely sealed your ability to use them, at least for the time being."
"Is that right?" Crowe asks, running his tongue along his teeth. "When I was training with her, she hit me with fire." He points an accusing finger at me, and I resist the urge to slap it out of my face.
"That was the only time I've ever used it," I remind him with narrowed eyes, "and that was only because my telekinetic powers were gone."
"It seems to me as if my hypothesis is correct," The Sage murmurs, gaze calmly switching between me and Crowe as if she either can't sense the tension in the room or doesn't care it's there.
"So it is possible for me to access it?" I prod, tucking my chin to my chest.
She nods. "It seems as though you must use your other powers first. It may take intense training, but I think eventually that seal over your pyrokinesis can be removed to make access much easier."
Crowe stares at me with a glazed look in his eyes, and I know he's imagining just how much work it might take for me to accomplish that—and he's responsible for seeing it through to the end.
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