by C. L. Bush
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” her mother repeated desperately, pain obvious in each word. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
The rattling of the furniture intensified into tremors until the very foundation of the house shook.
“You need to stop this!” Christopher shouted, hiding his fear behind anger, but Samantha could see through him. How didn’t they understand? How could they be so blind, so weak, so cowardly?
“Sam, please.” JJ was instructive but impossible to ignore as he decisively intertwined his fingers with hers. “Let it go for now. Clara wouldn’t want this.”
With one ultimate tremor, the house settled and Sam shakily returned to reality. The dust particles danced through the room in the aftermath. Damen’s face was unreadable while her parents’ faces were painted with confusion and horror. Zoey was sad, as was Clara’s mom, while Damen’s parents seemed to look at her as a failed investment.
Maybe she was.
“That’s it,” Christopher said, hiding the frightened tyrant behind reason once again. “You had been given a second chance, Samantha MacDonald, after a serious transgression and you’ve squandered it. You’ve been tampering with magic with repercussions you don’t understand and you show willingness to jeopardize countless lives for your own agenda.”
“Dad, please don’t do this,” Damen said finally, uncrossing his arms and taking a step forward.
Christopher denied him even a glance. “Quiet, Damen,” he said simply, his cold piercing gaze staked through Samantha. “Given the circumstances, I vote to bind the magical abilities of Samantha MacDonald until she’s proven she can be trusted not to use them for her own irresponsible agenda. All for, raise hands.”
Sam’s hand went limp in JJ’s grip as panic overwhelmed her. This wasn’t part of the plan. None of this was part of the plan.
“You can’t do that,” Damen said but was ignored by the room. Even Samantha’s parents raised their hands, fear obvious in their eyes.
“This is ridiculous,” Cathy spoke. “Rosie, you can’t be serious.”
“I would rather see my daughter alive and magicless than any other scenario she might push herself into,” Samantha’s mother said firmly.
Cathy shook her head. “But that would leave her defenseless. We need to grow these kids stronger and wiser, not take away the magic they’re supposed to learn to control.”
“Taking away her magic would interfere with her training completely,” Zoey added, her arms crossed so tightly they seemed like a shield.
“Which is exactly what she needs,” Amber said, eyeing both Samantha and her parents. “But I agree with Cathy We can’t afford any of the children wasting the little time we have to prepare what will have to be done sooner or later. I suggest a magic limitation.”
“No,” Sam’s dad said finally. “I want her out of this. She’s our daughter. The connection to magic has to be cut tonight.”
“Dad,” Sam murmured, betrayal burning hot in the pit of her chest. Her parents avoided her gaze.
“She might be your daughter, but this is a coven decision,” Amber said fiercely. “All for magic limitation, not full removal?”
Amber raised her hand, as did Cathy and Zoey, as a representative of her family. Sam’s parents remained unmoved, defiantly keeping their hands lowered. None of the younger members had the right to vote. With only Christopher left, Sam observed him coolly. As coven leader, his vote counted as two, and he was enjoying the tension in the room. He finally raised his hand in agreement but lowered it somewhat menacingly.
“A man must know when to listen to his wife,” he said in a hollow voice. “Samantha’s magic will be limited to the lowest amount possible. But hear me when I say this, Samantha MacDonald, if you light a candle or lift a feather you’re not supposed to, I’ll personally place a spell that will cut you off from magic until your grandchildren are born into this world.”
Sam remained silent but returned his gaze without flinching. Deep inside her, however, the pit of despair widened, threatening to swallow her whole.
“I’ll make the spell,” Clara’s mom said, nodding to Sam compassionately. “I believe there’s an old family bracelet with a limitation spell somewhere in the attic. I’ll find it after and give it to Sam.”
“Now that that is settled, we should go back to actual problems,” Christopher continued, turning his back to Sam, painting her completely irrelevant. “The reinforcement of the protective spell around the woods.”
As their words blurred in the distance, Samantha found herself gasping for air, panic paralyzing her. She dared not access her magic. Instead, she shook uncontrollably. Squeezing her hand tighter, JJ led her out of the room and into the backyard.
The last thing Samantha saw before being rushed out was Damen’s cold gaze.
“It’s going to be okay, Sam,” JJ whispered once they were out in the sobering cold March air. “It’s going to be okay.”
“They’re taking away my magic,” she said, her voice cracking. “They’re going to- I’m, I’m. What am I going to do, JJ?”
“They’re not taking it away completely. It’ll still be there.”
“I can’t get Clara back by lighting candles,” Samantha cried, tears finally flowing down her cheeks. She knelt on the damp grass and rocked back and forth. “One of these days, I won’t feel her.”
“She’s still there,” he said with certainty, kneeling next to her. “I can feel her. She’s there now.”
“So, you believe me?” Samantha eyed him with confusion, breath catching in her throat. “You believe me when I say she’s alive?”
“I don’t have to believe you. I know it’s true.” He cleared his throat and embraced her in a hug before stepping away. “They can’t afford to let themselves care about Clara right now.”
“So, we should just give up on her?”
“No, we’re just going to have to care about Clara on our own,” he explained, taking a deep breath. “Now, please stop panicking because you’re going to give me a panic attack.”
Sam laughed shortly and wiped her tears away with her sleeves. She breathed in deeply, just like JJ, stood up and fixed her hair.
“Let’s go inside before they manage to finish the meeting without us. Besides, there’s a punishment waiting for me. And information gathering for you,” she said with a soft smile and took him under his hand as if they were entering a ballroom. “Scan them all, and use that annoying little gift of yours to make them as uncomfortable as they make us feel.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” JJ retorted, opening the doors for her and offering her a way back into the candlelight. Samantha hesitated for a second and then boldly walked in.
A dance was to be played.
CHAPTER SIX
Day Three
CLARA
“Thank you for getting me out of training today, but you really didn’t have to come with me,” Clara said, watching her steps closely.
Helen had informed her that morning that some of the beasts sleuthing through the Arch from Pandemonium hid in the cracks in the concrete. Although she was fairly certain she wouldn’t notice any creature before it was too late, it was impossible not to be hyper-aware of her surroundings.
Next to her, Christina dashed through the streets, showing just how long she had been inside the Arch. She appeared ever-present yet aloof at the same time, and her curious posture pushed Clara to ask more questions than she would’ve like.
“No trouble, at all,” Christina responded with a grin. “This counts as real training, actually. In the house you can practice spells, but no real danger can come at you because of the protective spells, you know? But out here... anything can happen. That’s why I have to accompany you.”
“You sound excited,” Clara observed.
Christina’s smile widened. “It’s nice to have new arrivals,” she admitted. “Helen is amazing, but very goal-oriented. I understand why, but it doesn’t make it easier.”
/> “You seem goal-oriented to me, as well. But I get what you mean.”
“In all honesty, I would’ve probably lost my mind after the second month if she weren’t here with me. It’s hard, catching glimpses of the people you love, seeing them grow old and move on, seeing them forget about you.” Christina’s voice softened. “It’s harder when you don’t even catch those glimpses and you’re left with only your imagination.”
“How do you do it?”
“You do what you have to.” Christina smiled shyly. “I understood what I was getting into before I decided to walk into the Arch. The Arch would’ve demanded my blood one way or another.”
“If we’re being honest, I still don’t understand why you sacrificed yourself for Jared,” Clara admitted.
Christina sighed. “Because I was the one who pushed him into the ordeal. Jared was a... he had a gift.”
“Like JJ? He’s an empath, I think it’s called.”
“Huh, quite possibly he is. But Jared wasn’t. His gift was dream walking, which is the ability to enter a trance during where he can visit other plains of existence. I thought the gift would help Ian create a space like the Arch.”
“Did it work?”
“It did, of course. The Arch, with all its flaws, would be nothing but a vast empty space if Jared hadn’t helped. Here you can use magic, and on good days, you can convince yourself you’re in Richmond.”
“Have you ever seen Jared here? Like the people who use magic show up occasionally?”
“Sometimes I think I can hear his voice,” Christina said wistfully. “Like he’s calling out my name. But no, I’ve never seen him here. His mind was fractured by what happened and I’m afraid his spirit, or what’s left of it, is trapped somewhere else.”
Christina fell silent for a moment, and Clara cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“So, you entered the Arch because you felt responsible?”
“Among other things. You see, this way, I still have a chance at getting something out of it.”
“Certain death?”
“Survival of loved ones,” Christina corrected her without judgment. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“I guess,” Clara admitted unwillingly and her guide laughed softly. “Lotta good loving people did me.”
“Skip that crack.” Christina pushed her away softly.
Clara jumped, startled. “Demon?”
“No, just a deep crack. I tripped twice over it already.” She laughed and Clara joined in on the laughter, even though it quickly died out.
She followed Christina to one of the side roads, so deeply embedded in darkness that it was hard to recognize it. Clara noticed some of the houses vaguely trembling but before she managed to utter a word, Christina pushed her down to the ground.
“Hold on!” Christina yelled as the tremble intensified.
Before Clara could figure out what exactly to hold on to, the ground under her shook violently, the air itself vibrating. She screamed. Clara grabbed Christina’s hand, feeling her cuff heat up. A blast of rubble shot fast toward them, but the pebbles and rock disintegrated before they could reach the two women. And in a second, everything went back to silence and dead stillness.
“Nice move,” Christina said and staggered to her feet. She carelessly cleaned her clothes and dusted off her hair. “Someone in Richmond is having a bad day. We better hurry. That little stunt of yours will attract a couple of beasts and it’s better if there’s some distance between us once they arrive.”
“What do you mean? What was that?” Clara struggled to follow her. “What did I do?”
“Seems your protection instincts fired up in danger. The bracelet helped increase your abilities,” she explained calmly.
Clara’s frown deepened. “But what happened? Who’s having a bad day?”
“Oh, that! Well, what we just witnessed is what happens in the Arch when there’s a surge of uncontrolled magic in Richmond soil. It disturbs the magical balance, you see. Normally, that kind of thing wouldn’t influence the Arch but since the barrier is already weakened, everything’s emphasized here.”
“Is there any way to know who it was?”
“Sure, if we were in the same location as the person who did it. This way, there’s no way to know for sure.”
“I know for sure,” Clara exclaimed, realizing only mid-sentence that she was, indeed, sure. “It was Sam. Samantha McDonald.”
“Oh, Rosie’s daughter,” Christina said. “She would be part of your future coven, right?”
“I guess,” she answered, pushing her hands into pockets. “I don’t know a lot about all of it.”
“Since you replaced her place in the Arch, I’m guessing you were close.” Clara silently nodded. “It’s how it goes, especially if the previous generations were coven-linked.”
“Is that how it was for you?”
“At first. In the beginning, I could sense them. I could sense those who were alive and well, or if they were hurting, but eventually it faded away.”
“How come?”
“Because I faded away, and because my magic is fading away,” Christina said, a hint of deep-rooted pain in her voice. “Now, I’m not sure if I would know if one of my original coven members died. That link faded away. The family link, however, didn’t. That’s how I could sense Xander’s death. We’re cousins.”
“I liked Xander. He... I felt close to him,” Clara explained awkwardly.
Christina smiled. “Of course, you did. It’s how it works. You use magic together and develop an empathic link.”
“But we never used magic together. At least not as far as I know,” Clara mused.
Christina gave her a warm grin. “If you have magic in your blood, you use it all the time. Even if you’re not aware of it. Even if you don’t feel it. It’s an instinct. It’s who you’re.”
“And here I thought being valedictorian was enough of an image for my college application,” Clara joked, struggling to recognize their surroundings. “What are those things?”
“The shadows? I thought Helen would explain.” Something in Christina’s voice prompted Clara to raise an eyebrow. “It’s... difficult.”
“Christina, everything so far has been difficult,” Clara retorted and got a sigh as an answer. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that-”
“What?”
“Helen probably didn’t want you losing time or piece of mind over it.”
“Well, now you just have to tell me,” Clara said and found herself surprised once Christina returned an authoritative stare.
“I remember neither Ian nor Cathy being this arrogant,” she said calmly. “You must get it from Helen.”
“It’s not arrogance. It’s efficiency. The adults of Richmond tried to protect us and where did it get us?”
Christina frowned and mumbled, but eventually sighed and met Clara’s demand for answers.
“Those are remnants,” Christina started. “We believe those are the magical remains of those whose life force was consecrated by the Arch.”
“What?” Clara glared, her eyebrow arching in annoyance. “Are you trying to say that the shadows are people who died in front of the Arch?”
“Yes,” Christina reluctantly responded. “But only those of magical descent.”
“Like Xander,” Clara suggested. “Like my father.”
“Yes, but please understand, it’s impossible to communicate with them. I would argue that it’s hard to even recognize them.”
“Then how do you know it’s them?” Clara asked.
Christina shot her a heated look. “Watch your step here. We’re almost there,” she responded instead and gently pushed the bushes out of the way.
Clara turned around in confusion, only realizing then that they were in the middle of the Richmond woods. The dark was almost tangible, and it was hard to locate the source of the soft glow. The trees rose above her as if aliens from an
other planet, their dark limbs like arms stretching towards her while their leaves atop blocked out the light.
“This is it,” Christina announced and took a step back. She breathed in deeply, allowing Clara to approach the clearing where, just two days ago, she had lost her life.
“That’s the Arch?” Clara whispered, trying to take in the structure before her. Christina nodded.
The crystalline threads wove a web-like structure that glistened and quaked before the duo. Whispers were louder but less hostile around it. Instead, they had something of a humming tune to it. Clara felt the surge of magic through her body, pulsating, sending goosebumps up and down her spine.
“You can touch it, but don’t linger for too long and don’t try to push through it,” Christina said with seriousness far older than her biological age.
Clara briefly glanced at her guide before stretching out her arm and cautiously placing a finger on the structure. It was watery and cold, somewhere between snow and rubber.
“It reminds me of melted glass,” Christina whispered.
Clara nodded in agreement, placing her palm on the structure. “You might want to take your hand off right about now.”
Clara obeyed as the Arch slowly dimmed and solidified.
“Move, please,” Christina said. A hiss came from the Arch that now was darker than dark. “Something’s trying to come through.”
The hiss grew louder, and Christina calmly chanted words and cut her forearm. Clara caught bits of Latin here and there, but she recognized too few words to understand. Christina took a bit of her own blood on her fingertips and smeared it on the Arch. The Arch turned red for a moment, and trembled before turning calm and milky white once more.
“All good now,” Christina said with ease. “We better not disturb it anymore.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Here and there,” she admitted.
“Can’t you make a permanent spell? One that would forever be stuck to the Arch and nothing can pass through it?”