The Omen of Stones

by Casey L. Bond

  River.

  “You’re soaked.” She looked me over critically. “And you’re trembling. Let’s get you home. We’re going to be late. The dance has already started, but due to the weather, they moved it inside.”

  “How will everyone in the village fit inside their home?”

  Lindey’s brow rose. Right. Because their house is enormous, and the village is not.

  “We have to get you ready.”

  “I don’t want to go,” I told her stubbornly. We both knew it, but we both knew I had to go anyway.

  The Founder rarely asked for much, but when he did, he expected his wishes to be granted. He would already be irritated by our tardiness, which would worsen with every moment I didn’t run home and get dressed.

  Lindey and I slogged through the water to the bank and I helped her up the slippery mud. Her knees were weaker now. They were often stiff and swollen so much that even her skin turned red.

  The entire walk home, I listened to the stones as they cried out to me. River. I couldn’t stay with them any longer. The skin of my feet had shriveled uncomfortably, and I was drenched and freezing. I needed to get out of this dress and stand in front of a fire for a few moments. Lindey could braid my hair back, even though it was wet. Sometimes, dampness made the chore easier, or so she said.

  As much as I tried to think warm thoughts, as much as I tried to dread the ridiculous dance and the evening itself, as much as I tried to worry about Sebastian and his plot to stake a claim on me as decisively as his father once did to this land, I could only focus on one word.

  River.

  The dance was unmistakably dull. I sat alone along the wall of their ‘great room’, which had been cleared of all furniture except for a few chairs and a piano positioned in the far corner. An unknown girl played it by candlelight. I wasn’t sure how she could see, honestly. Despite the warm glow of candles dripping from a chandelier overhead it was still dim, and the lighting was murky, at best. The girl played beautifully though, the melodies flowing from her fingers effortlessly. I felt no magic in her, but her song seemed like it could be. It was one she’d practiced often, one she knew by heart and could play with her eyes closed, in complete darkness, if necessary.

  Mercifully, Sebastian still hadn’t asked me to dance with him. He knew how; I’d seen him dance at other celebrations. Tonight, he laughed with a group of boys in the center of the room, all of them drawing attention from those hovering around their fringes. He and his friends were popular in the village, considered the next generation of settlers in this place, thought to be the bright and promising future of East Village.

  Two men carried in a small table and positioned it in the corner of the room opposite the piano. Next, Judith brought in a large, rectangular cake. She stepped carefully through the room and gently eased the cake onto the table. Without a word she left, returning a few minutes later with a pile of plates and napkins with forks rolled up in their middles.

  Lindey strode through the clumps of people milling around the room. “This is lovely,” she said, sitting next to me.

  I didn’t think it was lovely, though admittedly I was still numb from the evening’s strange events. The combination of thrashing wind, driving rain, and cool, flowing water from the river chilled my bones, and I couldn’t seem to get warm while wearing the dress Lindey had bought for me.

  The dress itself was beautiful. Cut off the shoulder, it bared more than I usually allowed, but it was tasteful, nonetheless. The color of heavy cream, layers of airy chiffon fell from the belt of material at my waist and drifted to the floor in delicate waves. My shoes matched the pearly color perfectly.

  Someone cleared their throat in front of us and I looked up to find Sebastian finally making time to acknowledge us. A strange shiver slid up my spine, followed by a prickling unease. “Thank you for coming, Omen,” he said, ignoring Lindey entirely, somehow managing to be rude and gracious at the same time.

  “Thank you for the invitation,” I replied formally.

  “This is all for you,” he preened, extending his arms as if revealing the room and all it contained for the first time. As if I hadn’t been seated in it for the past awkward half hour.

  I nodded and smiled, peering around the room in a manner Lindey would appreciate. “It’s beautiful, Sebastian. Thank you.”

  “My friends would love to speak to you, but I can hold them off if you’d care to dance,” he proposed, dark eyes flashing.

  I didn’t like the color. It reminded me of the deepest heart of night, when the gloom blossomed thickly and the blue-black consumed even the shadows.

  When he extended his hand, I glanced at Lindey, who gave a nervous but approving nod. Slipping my cool hand into his clammy one, we walked to the center of the room, effectively dislodging his friends, and began to dance. At first, we were the only ones.

  While Sebastian reveled in being the center of attention, I shrank from it. I could feel the eyes of the whole village, young and old and everyone in between, on us as we moved stiffly on the dance floor.

  Soon, a few other couples joined us and I breathed a little easier.

  Our hands were clasped at shoulder-level, but his other hand had snaked around my back. He pressed me closer with every rotation, but I managed to keep my distance.

  The Smiths might want me to be seen as his ‘close friend’ and ‘special guest,’ but I didn’t want those labels applied. I didn’t want anyone to think I was Sebastian’s anything.

  “Why won’t you let me bring you closer?” he inquired softly with a smile as the song ended.

  “I don’t want to give the wrong impression, Sebastian. I don’t wish to be courted.”

  The smile fell from his lips. “Do witches court one another? I thought they merely hand-fasted, and only for a year.”

  His tone was unreadable, but I heard the disappointment that laced his words. I could also tell he didn’t care about my wishes.

  Did he think I was toying with him? Playing a game of cat and mouse? Because I wasn’t the least bit interested in Sebastian Smith, and never would be. Not even for three hundred and sixty-five days could I stomach him. No amount of dancing, cakes, or fine clothes would sway my opinion, either.

  He was a spoiled, arrogant brat.

  I wanted nothing to do with him and didn’t know how I could possibly be more direct, though I realized people like Sebastian weren’t used to hearing the word no. Some men took that word as a challenge, a sign they needed to push harder. Sebastian seemed to be that kind of man.

  I just hoped he knew I was the sort of woman who would light him on fire if he pushed too hard. Lindey and I could cross the river boundary and vanish before anyone could pat out the flames.

  “I think I need to cool off a moment,” I said, excusing myself and extracting my hand from his. With that, I left him gaping like a fish in the middle of a sea of dancing couples. Had anyone left him behind before?

  Soon his friends huddled around him again, blocking my view of him, and hopefully his of me.

  Judith was serving cake. She placed a dainty slice on a plate for me and did the same for Lindey, who complimented her on how lovely her home was.

  Truthfully, it was beautiful. The walls looked freshly painted, a robin’s egg blue trimmed in white.

  Edward stood in the corner, surrounded by men and women who deftly stroked his ego. Judith looked smaller than she had yesterday in our home. It was like this place diminished her. Or perhaps that was the effect her husband had on her.

  If that was what committing to a man did to a woman, I wanted no part of it. Lindey had explained hand-fasting to me, but I wondered how Sebastian knew…

  She wouldn’t tell me how she knew such things, but I had a good guess. She must have originally come from within the Kingdom of Nautilus, which meant she’d been cast out for some reason. I just wasn’t sure why. Lindey
was a good person, beautiful inside and out. I couldn’t imagine her breaking a law unless it she did it accidentally.

  Whomever sent her away was a fool, I decided long ago. Their loss was my gain.

  The cake was delicious. It wasn’t as fluffy as Lindey’s, but the vanilla flavor was smooth and decadent. “This cake is wonderful, Judith,” I tried to encourage.

  She gave a wan smile but didn’t speak. Her eyes shifted warily to her husband.

  He was watching her. Watching us, actually.

  “Is the cake to your liking, Omen?” his voice boomed, stepping away from his guests.

  “It’s wonderful.” I turned back to his wife. “Did you make it, Judith?”

  Edward chuckled, excusing himself from his admirers, and answered for her. “Of course she did.” His oily grin matched his hair and eyes.

  Lindey thanked him for going to all this trouble for my birthday, and then the two exchanged bland pleasantries and compliments.

  I tried to focus on them, but the word river distracted me and tugged at my mind. I could almost feel it physically tugging me back there. To the river. To the stones.

  “Are the wards you’ve made sound, Omen?” Edward asked.

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Two militia men spotted a band of loathsome vagrants traveling close to our borders. I didn’t want any of them causing trouble. Will you be able to tell if the border is breached?”

  “Yes, but if you’re worried, maybe increasing patrols is wise for the time being,” I suggested. “So someone is there if they come too close to the wards.”

  “Can’t you spirit yourself there? Other witches have the ability.” He watched me like a coyote watched a hare. I looked to Lindey, whose fork was frozen between her plate and mouth, the bite she was about to take forgotten. Her eyes were wide and guilty. Lindey had some explaining to do about spiriting…whatever that was.

  Spiriting? Does he mean to ask if I can run really fast? Because that’s certainly not the case. Or does it mean something else? Could magic somehow propel me across distances quicker than I could ever hope to run? I’ll have to talk to Lindey about it this evening. She knows something.

  “I don’t believe so, sir.”

  “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” he replied sternly, standing up taller. “I just pride myself on keeping this village safe, and keeping any criminals cast out of the Kingdom far away from our people.”

  But I knew he wouldn’t have mentioned the travelers if it didn’t concern him. I became worried, deciding to place more ward stones in the trees at my first opportunity.

  Sebastian chose that moment to abandon his friends and insert himself into our conversation. I quickly made the excuse of putting my plate away and went in search of a place to do so. There were no bins to place the dirtied dishes in, so I wandered down the hall to find the kitchen.

  Unfortunately, I neglected to hear the footsteps that followed me. Sebastian found me in the dim room. “There you are.”

  The same prickling chill slid up my spine again at the sight of him in the shadows. I swallowed thickly. The room was dark. Not a single candle was lit. I laid the plate and fork down near the wash basin and walked toward the exit. He stopped slouching against the door frame and rose to his full height and width, blocking the way. “Excuse me.”

  Sebastian smiled. “Maybe we should spend some time alone. You know, to get to know each other. I don’t know much about you, Omen, other than the fact you have an unusual obsession with rocks.”

  I did not have an obsession with rocks.

  The stones’ trembling and Fate’s voice rang in my mind. River.

  “Very well,” I relented. “But Lindey will worry if I don’t return quickly. Let’s rejoin the party and I’ll tell you more about myself.”

  I certainly didn’t want to be alone with him in the dark any longer than necessary. Luckily, the ploy worked and he escorted me back to the party. But Sebastian then plastered himself to my side and expected me to tell him about my likes and dislikes. At first, his questions were as shallow as he, but as the evening wore on, he began asking about my magic and how it worked. I itched to get away from him.

  Lindey eventually did me a kindness, rescuing me and thanking the Smiths for having us, but saying that with the late hour, we should be on our way back home.

  Edward and Sebastian saw us out, but we made quick goodbyes and quicker tracks home.

  The night sky was bright with stars, but the scent of the earlier storm lingered. The stones... I could still hear them.

  “Lindey…”

  She turned to look at me and stopped walking. “I know that tone. What’s the matter?”

  “I need to go to the river.”

  “At this hour?”

  I nodded. “I have to.”

  “Then we go to the river,” she replied simply. I could tell she was trying to hide her exhaustion, but Lindey was getting older. She’d been on her feet most of the day and much of the night. She’d even waded into the cold river to fetch me this evening. She was bone tired.

  “I need to go alone,” I told her. “I’m not sure why, but I do.”

  We walked through the village between the small huddles of homes and shops in silence.

  “I owe you an apology,” she finally said.

  “For what?”

  “For making you attend that charade of a party. The Smiths may have founded this town, but they don’t own it. And they don’t own you, Omen.”

  “I know.”

  We ended up being late for the party he’d thrown for me, and the Founder made sure I paid for the infraction of tardiness. Edward Smith ushered us in, telling everyone I was their honored guest before dramatically recanting the story of how I was saved to the villagers who had gathered for dancing and refreshments.

  Not for the first time, his words felt like a lie. I hadn’t seen Judith “go for a walk” near the river in all my years, and I’d wager she hadn’t since the day she was alleged to have found me. She never left Edward’s side or sight, and besides that, she could barely look me in the eye. I wasn’t sure if it was his power over her that kept her weak, or if she did it to punish herself for something she thought she had to atone for a thousand times over.

  With everything in me, I didn’t believe Judith found me during a stroll. But if she hadn’t, who did? My mother’s words fluttered into my mind…

  She was born in the river, and in the river, will she die.

  River. Go to river! Fate insisted, his voice growing louder.

  Lindey and I arrived at our cozy home, but before she shuffled inside, she faced me, gripping my upper arms lightly. “Be careful, Omen. Don’t go in the water. The river is sure to have swollen from the storms.”

  “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  She noticed I didn’t promise not to enter the water.

  I needed to feel the rush of it over the rocks, hear the roar of the rapids, and taste the spray on my skin.

  7

  River

  A storm had blown through earlier in the day, the second in as many days, but Mom said the Summer Solstice celebration wouldn’t be delayed. She gave me a black cloak and proudly pinned it at my throat. Black – the color of our House, the House of Fate. Before my mom claimed the House on behalf of Fate, her mother was its Guardian. Cyril was as evil and cruel as history remembered her. My mom and Fate himself were the only things that ended her reign of terror.

  Fate once lived inside my grandmother Cyril, too, but left her to dwell in Mom. So the fact that he kept whispering for me to find the omen of stones shook me to the core. I didn’t want to be like Cyril. Cyril was evil and corrupt. She’d used magic against her own people.

  But in truth, I didn’t want to be like Mom was before she met Dad, either.

  “You look li
ke a proper witch,” Mom said with a smile.

  “He does,” Dad agreed from behind me.

  How long had he been there? Mom could sense Dad before he was present, but I couldn’t. I could only sense spirits. The living frequently evaded and sometimes startled me.

  Tauren laughed at the look of shock on my face. “Knox isn’t the only one with silent feet.”

  He pulled Mom in for a kiss, so I promptly looked away.

  “Tell Brecan when you arrive,” Mom told me.

  She was worried. I knew she wanted to accompany me, but also wanted me to find my own way now that I was old enough. I was glad she trusted me and was willing to give me space. Being part of the royal family rarely afforded the luxury, but in Thirteen, I would be welcome. I would be safe. The borders were spelled. No Purist could get in, and if they did, Goddess help them. Brecan would tear them to shreds if Mira or Arron didn’t get to them first.

  Without another word I spirited into The Gallows, appearing in the Center, a pentagram trod into the earth by the feet of my kind. It was where the celebration would be held in only a few hours.

  The magic here was thick and viscous; I tasted it on my tongue and my skin tingled with the contact. But it wasn’t just because it was the Solstice. It was like this whenever we visited. My magic thrived in this place, where at home it was stifled.

  There were no spirits lingering in the Center and none I could see beyond it. But I could sense bones…Several bones, above me. I turned a slow circle to find small animal bones hanging in the trees beyond the five Houses. Each House represented a witch affinity and was positioned at a tip in the pentagram. According to Mom there were a few cabins beyond the Houses, though I’d never seen them, and little else but forest.

  “River!” Brecan yelled from the porch of his House. He wore robes the color of the sky on a clear day. The needles and leaves in the canopy were still, but Brecan’s straight, pale blond hair blew in a wind that seemed to emanate from him.