I scowled at him. “There are no records of this—”
“Of course there are,” he countered with a snort, his fingers now drumming on the armrest. “But they’re buried in the Conclave right where they should be. This is information few need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because the Conclave deemed it so, and though most witches don’t believe it, the Assembly often accedes to the Conclave’s wishes.”
Now I truly was doing a goldfish impression. “So, the Conclave has redacted this information—why?”
“Ours is not to question why,” he murmured loftily. “Regardless, their myopic stance is neither here nor there. Perhaps they wanted what happened to actually occur, for the Fae to become beholden to them, but that is on the Conclave…
“Anyhow, after the impact, witches were suddenly twice as powerful. In some instances, three or four times as much. The manifestations began—magic was suddenly visible in the most powerful of witchkind. Before the meteorite, power was invisible. After? It was tangible.”
Just like mine was.
My pink glow meant something. It wasn’t just another weird thing about me and me alone.
When my grandfather carried on speaking, I hurried to tune in, “At first, back then, there were more witches showing such power, but over time, far fewer were born with the ability.” He hummed. “Your grandmother’s magic manifested, and she told me your mother manifested from a young age too—”
“What?” I hissed, the news coming totally out of the blue to me. “She never told me that.” Sol damn it. Even if it made sense that she hadn’t shared the information with me, it didn’t stop the hurt from spreading deep inside.
I’d always known she was ashamed of me, of my lack of powers. Now I knew why.
This was further proof of my lack in her eyes. She thought me a scant when, in truth, I was just as powerful as she was.
“Are you going to keep on interrupting?” he grumbled.
“You can’t expect me to—” I gritted my teeth. I wanted answers more than I wanted to complain, so I groused, “Okay. Sorry. Carry on.”
His sigh was long-suffering. “Just as the manifestations appear to have been triggered by the meteorite, so were—"
A gasp escaped me as, suddenly, it clicked. “Virgos?”
His nod was slow, but I could sense he was pleased I was quick to catch on. “As well as human born Fae. It is all founded on that one meteor collision. The biggest shifts in our evolution find their source in that one impact event.”
With the thread of the world, of our history, suddenly tumbling apart in my hands, I could do nothing other than watch as he told a tale I knew would have every kid loving the accounts of our past. That is, of course, if anyone bothered to tell us the fucking truth.
Why keep us in the dark about this? It was a pivotal part of our society’s development, and yet, it was hidden from us like we didn’t have a right to the knowledge. Sol damn it, I hated politics.
“We don’t know why the meteorite would be the catalyst for such acts, but our place isn’t to question, as I said. Ours is simply to deal with the aftermath.” He blew out a breath. “By this point, the Assembly and the Conclave weren’t exactly friendly, but the existence of mates among both species certainly eased things… especially when witches started going mad from power surges.
“Records suggest that as many as twenty percent of witches were lost to the surges in waves that spanned a few decades until a solution was discovered. Some simply couldn’t control the magic they were manifesting, and it consumed them. A lot of powerful witches were lost as their magic overwhelmed them to the point they were practically electrocuted. In the face of such horrific deaths, the Assembly and the Conclave worked together to find a solution.”
I thought back to my lessons at Eight Wings, and whispered, “Ibrahim vil der Kird.”
The old man nodded and shot me a beaming smile. “Indeed, yes. Ibrahim vil der Kird was the Fae who figured out how to save the witches. He developed the house bands,” he murmured, breaking off to raise his arms and reveal the gold bands that adorned his aged wrists, “while the Assembly came up with the agreements for the Fae to mine the witches’ magic.
“From then on out, the solstices, the most powerful connection witchkind has with Gaia, had a dual purpose. They were no longer just a celebration, a means for a party. The Fae captured the excess magic which was believed to be causing the power surges, and we began to use it instead of our blood magic. It wasn’t even a trade, really, simply us doing the witches a favor.”
“Sol,” I breathed, thinking about one of my first lessons with Leopold and how he’d disgusted me. His pride in the thieving of witch magic had turned my stomach, had twisted things so that I’d hated the Fae, loathed them for their power over witches. But now? From this perspective? Suddenly, things began to gel more. Not all was as it seemed. “That’s incredible,” I whispered, utterly dazed by this insight into the past.
“History often is, but we often learn from history that we learn nothing from it... Or so the saying goes.” He ceased tapping his fingers, instead bridging both of his hands together. “The Conclave chose to keep the witches in the dark, as it usually does, and with such ignorance, hatred for the Fae was born as perceptions changed. The witches, the most powerful of the races, were suddenly out of control with their power surges, while the Fae appeared to gain more and more authority as they began to mine witch magic and use it for their own gain. Hatred abounds in such situations.”
Sol, that was an understatement.
I wasn’t even a part of the Conclave, wasn’t a part of the witch community itself, and I resented the Fae. Everyone did, though. We all knew how lofty and arrogant the Fae were. That was without the witches knowing the Fae ‘stole’ their magic too. Everyone just believed the Fae were braggarts. No one liked how much clout the Assembly had, the way it inveigled itself into the human government with its machinations that served no one other than the Fae.
“Perhaps it started out with good intentions, but you can’t say that the Fae don’t take advantage of it,” I argued, unable to accept everything he said on face value.
He snorted. “You name me a race where that doesn’t happen. Humans, witches, Fae… there are always evildoers. Always people who seek to take advantage of their position of power. That is as natural as the passage of time.
“Nonetheless, the hatred of the Fae is ingrained now, too deeply inherent in witch society to change.” He shrugged. “Can’t be helped, however, you know the truth now, and you’re currently in a position of immense power.”
I knew he wasn’t speaking metaphorically. “Why?”
“Because you know more than most,” he rasped. “Still, some do know and make it their mission to spread the word. Even if the word they’re spreading is a partial truth.”
That had my brow puckering. “Like who?”
“Do you know who the AFata are?”
I racked my mind for the name, but came up with nothing.
“They’re an anti-Fae group of witches who make it their mission to burden any assignment the Fae might be on. Going so far as to help rebels and terrorists with their work just to ‘beat’ our people.”
“That sounds pretty pointless.”
He waved a hand. “One man’s freedom fighter is another man’s terrorist. Though ridiculous, they truly do think they’re doing their best for mankind.
“Your grandmother was AFata. She fought for them during the early sixties when communism was overtaking Cuba. It was well known that the Assembly, wherever it was based, Sol, even the USSR, was anti-communist, and so, she hated the Fae. She fought against us…” He smiled, and it was loaded with memories, so much so that it made my throat grow thick in response. “…until she met us and we told her the full truth, not just the half-spouted nonsense of a bunch of terrorists.
“The irony was, of course, that we were sent there to combat the AFata after the Bay of Pigs Invasion. We
were her Virgo and the rest as they say…”
“Hardly history, Grandfather,” I murmured, “not if it’s affecting us to this day.”
“That’s how you know you lived right,” he admonished, “when you feel the aftereffects fifty years later.”
I frowned at him, and barely refrained from wagging my finger his way. He wasn’t a child, and he didn’t need me to tell him off, but neither did he have to sound so fucking proud when I was dealing with the aftermath of his, Sol, their actions.
“And the AFata… I’m going to assume they didn’t approve of abuela’s Virgos?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Correct, Gabriella, correct. At first, she thought they’d let her go, but they never did relinquish their hold on her, and when they discovered she was carrying a child?” His laughter turned darker, before he whistled out the remainder of his breath. “That’s when things got interesting.”
I tipped my head to the side, and suddenly, the reason he was telling me all this hit home. “That’s who tried to kill me? Who’ve been trying to kidnap me all along?”
“Yes to the kidnapping. As to the killing? No. You’re too precious. A witch who has insider dealings with the Fae?” He cocked a brow at me. “Perfect spy material. No, they didn’t try to kill you—”
“I say differently. They sent a bird for me and it attacked me. It went for my damn eyes—”
“Attack is different than kill, but it’s their shortsightedness. They failed to recognize that their magic won’t behave when it comes to a witch born Fae.”
I processed that. “You mean to tell me that they sent the raven with one intention—”
“A raven?” He hummed. “Interesting. A message. They were sending a message.”
“And instead of delivering it, it decided to go for my eyes?”
He waved a hand. “Undoubtedly, it was a message where they were asking you to be their eyes for them. Or some such nonsense,” he grumbled. “And then, this second attempt that inevitably brought you here…”
“A storm. They cast a storm and it dragged me from my Virgo.”
“Unquestionably, their intention was to bring you to them. If the storm went awry, then it was because of the way you muddle with regular magic.”
I shook my head at him. “I’ve never heard anything like that before.” What did he mean by muddle?
He cocked a brow at me. “Do spells ever work as you anticipate them? And what about your mother? When she works magic, do the spells turn out right?”
Huffing as I recalled a million curses as my mother yelled at me for being lazy with my magic, I grumbled, “Most of them turn out right.” Sort of.
“And your mother’s spells?”
I shrugged. “She never said anything, but…” Ugh, I hated to admit this. “She didn’t really cast much around me.”
“Probably because when she was around you, they never really worked. When you were eighteen, I know you left to attend college. So when the true extent of the way you can corrupt magic around you was triggered, you were away from home.”
“You say it like I’m…”
“Think metal in a microwave,” he inserted helpfully.
My mouth dropped open at that. “I’m that bad?”
He nodded. “Indeed. Magical mishaps happen, and witches don’t really understand that it’s because you’re there, so it’s never pointed out. One lost spell doesn’t mean all that much, and considering you’ve never been outed as coming from a witch family, it wouldn’t cause any of your kind to truly question what you are.”
When I thought back to the lessons where my mother had taken two weeks to show me how to light a candle, a lesson that would have taken an ordinary witch a day at the most… things started to make sense.
“My entire life has been a lie,” I whispered, the truth felt like a yawning pit in my soul.
“No need for melodrama, Granddaughter, things aren’t as bad as all that,” he said with a huff as his chair squeaked when he tried to get comfortable.
“Not yet,” I muttered grimly, aware that if the AFata had gone to the trouble to cast a twister over Eight Wings Academy just to bring me to them, then they could be capable of anything.
What the Sol was their next move going to be?
3
Daniel
When Jyll got to her feet and headed to a set of French doors that opened onto a small, walled courtyard that was lined with a neatly trimmed hedge and dotted with potted plants, we moved to follow.
Relief filled me the second she stood, but my heart pounded in my chest as, on the path to the doors, she froze a few times on the way there. When she held the doorknob and rattled it to open it, she went still again. Her fingers bled white around the handle, and she took a few shaky breaths, seeming to need to build up the courage to leave the room.
How long had she been cooped up in here if it was this hard to simply walk outside into an enclosed terrace?
Pity filled me, but I didn’t particularly get the feeling Jyll wanted pity so the emotion was wasted. More than anything, I just got the vibe that she wanted to be left alone, but that wasn’t going to happen, not when my woman was still only Sol knew where.
When she’d said we didn’t have the glow of a Virgo? It had hurt me. Physically hurt me as though she’d stabbed me in the leg or something. Knowing her decision to help us might have rested on the crux of our not having fulfilled the bond was more than I could stand.
But it brought something home to me. Shit, it hammered it home—I didn’t care how soon it was, didn’t care if these instincts Riel triggered in me were destructive, didn’t give a shit about anything other than stamping my mark on her in as many ways as I could.
The glow she was talking about wasn’t something I understood, but fuck it, I wanted it. I wanted that damn glow. Wanted everyone to know I was taken, that I was hers as much as Riel was mine.
Just the thought had my lungs bellowing, need stirring inside me—a complex cocktail that was founded in a need to find my woman, a need to be inside her, and a need to fulfil the Virgo’s claim because we weren’t, I determined, going to be like Noa and her grandmother. Fuck that.
Jyll jerked me from my thoughts by finally stepping outside, and I had to force myself to calm down, to take a deep breath and chill the fuck out. I was on edge, and not even that torturously long flight had eased my agitation. I felt strung out. Like a junkie who’d lost his next fix.
Eyes on Jyll, I followed her, Seph and Matt at my back, and Noa closed the glass paneled doors behind him. They rattled slightly, making Jyll jump and jerk to see what had caused the noise, before she sighed and twisted around, visually taking in all the courtyard had to offer.
It was almost like she’d never been out here or something, but I doubted that was true. Still, I wasn’t that interested in the woman, just her powers.
Selfish?
Sure.
I owned it.
The longer Riel was apart from me, the harder I had to fight not to completely blow my top.
When Jyll stopped fidgeting, ceased her incessant wriggling about as she peered up at the sky then down at the hedges, squinting as she leaned into them, scenting them and rubbing a few of the leaves between her pointer and middle finger, I waited for her to do something. Anything that would give us a clue.
My woman was out there, somewhere, and it was a big wide world. I’d find her, eventually, but time felt as though it was running out. Like it was slipping through my fingers. Each minute seemed like a mile, one that was pushing us further and further apart until I didn’t have a hope in hell of breathing the same air as her again.
Even as a part of me was lost in a quagmire of frantic panic that found its source in the Virgo bond, the warrior in me was focused on the here and now. When Jyll sighed, settled her palms face up in front of her at waist height, excitement whispered through me. Her eyes closed, and she hummed under her breath. A low, resonant sound that made my ears tingle in response. It wasn’t unpl
easant, but neither was it agreeable. It was the kind of noise that set your nerves on edge, but without the cringe factor of nails down a chalkboard. Almost like white noise, but nicer.
As the hum grew louder, a blur of light began to buzz around the palms of her hands. Hers wasn’t bright pink like Riel’s though. Her ‘glow’ was a mixture of green and blue. The color should have been a sharp cyan or turquoise, but it wasn’t. Unlike Riel’s, who merged two powerful colors together, Jyll’s remained separate. It was then I realized that each color represented something, and Sol, I didn’t know shit about witch power. Well, aside from the basics, and most witches? They didn’t glow, so there were never any outward signs of what their magic might be.
Though I felt like a dumbass for only now putting two and two together, I had to wonder what it meant that Riel had merged two colors while Jyll’s were separate.
Still, my curiosity could wait. The glow grew brighter, royal blue chasing a sage green as they danced around her palms. Overhead, the suddenly sunny day became reminiscent of what had gone down at Eight Wings, transforming a bright cobalt sky into one stained with gray clouds.
Thunder boomed, and because it was unexpected, I jumped in place. The windows behind us rattled in the panes of the terrace doors, and I heard a few surprised squeaks from the women within the library as they, too, were taken aback by the roaring power overhead.
With Riel, the squall seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere. It felt like it had materialized in the time it took my heart to beat. She’d been captured by the storm in the blink of an eye, and though the raging flurry itself felt like it had lasted a lifetime, less than five minutes had passed as she’d been dragged away from me and hurled down to the ground.
From start to finish, I hadn’t been able to catch my breath. Whatever Jyll was doing took longer, but it soothed the panic that had been a part of me since Riel had disappeared. Whether it was the hum or the pressure in the air from the storm front, I couldn’t say. What I did know, was that my head felt clearer than it had since this entire thing with Riel had begun.
Faeling Hard: An Eight Wings Academy Novel: Book Two Page 5