by Bonnie Lamer
I start with Annika. She’s done the best job of keeping a low profile around me, only stepping out of the shadows that one time. Looking her dead in the eye, I say, “The ability to hurt someone from a distance with an ugly little doll is cowardly. Not to mention annoying. Have you ever thought of getting some art education under your belt to make your likenesses more like actual likenesses?” She looks baffled, not sure if that was a rhetorical question or not. It wasn’t but I continue anyway. “There is no need for that other than to dish out cruelty on others without actually having to look them in the eye when you do it. My gift to you is a nudge towards improving your character through social interaction instead of hiding behind your wax dolls. Or cars,” I say and I can’t help a small giggle at her indignant face.
“I was not hiding behind the cars. I was waiting for the opportune moment to show my cards.”
Uh huh. “From plant to wax your tool of choice, I take from you your artistic voice.” What there is of it, anyway. “Likenesses made to cause fear and pain, from your hands made never again.” My spells just aren’t as catchy as some of the others I’ve read. I’ll have to work on that.
Annika looks down at her hands in shock and then back up at me. “What have you done?”
I try to think of a nice way to put it, but I can’t. “I guess you could say I neutered you. You can still perform some magic, just not Sympathetic magic.” She is furious but she must be biting her tongue because she doesn’t say anything.
“Xandra, I will not tolerate you treating these people like this. They may have wronged you – and me, but it is my right as King to decide their punishment.” So, Grandpa got his groove back, huh? Yeah, that was cheesy even in my own head.
“Remember when I said that you remaining King is conditional? This is one of the conditions. I will not let these Witches go back and keep doing what they’ve been doing. If you don’t like it, do something about it.” I’ve thrown my challenge at his feet and I’m curious to see what he does with it.
Nothing. He clamps his lips together and tries not to glower at me. He doesn’t succeed. I shake my head and turn away from him to size up Fatin for a long moment; long enough for him to start to squirm a little under the scrutiny. “What you do is not necessarily a bad thing. If spirits stick around just to cause trouble, someone has to help them pass on. I’m told that it’s unusual for spirits to remain themselves like my mom and dad have, so I hate to admit it, but I don’t think I should neuter you.”
An uncomfortable and awkward moment hangs in front of us as we both take in what I just said. Eew. “Anyway, I need your word that you will only use your power for good.” Again with the cheese. I might as well add ‘and may the force be with you.’ “Do I have your word?” Not that his word really means anything to me.
He hesitates just long enough for me to feel I need to add, “Because I will find out if you’re doing something you’re not supposed to do.”
Like Grandpa, he looks like he wants to say something but instead, he pastes a fake smile on his face. “The extent of your wrath has been made perfectly clear. As a Witch who wishes to remain…intact, I agree to your conditions.”
I kind of believe him so I move on to Beren and Davina. I think of them as a set. They seem to spend a lot of time together; I wonder if they’re dating. “The same goes for the two of you. If Witches go bad, someone has to be able to apprehend them and bring them in.” What, am I, a cop now using their lingo? Moving on. “Will you agree to the same thing as Fatin?”
There’s no hesitation on their part. They say yes right away. Something tells me that they just go along with the flow of things. At least, the flow of things led by the most powerful. I’m convinced they mean it. As much as they can, anyway.
I check them off in my head. Maeva can’t become anything she’s not. Or do anything with magic. Louhi can’t steal minds any more. He doesn’t know it yet, but he can’t do any magic anymore, either. I think I’ll leave that as a surprise. Midar is just useless at this point. Annika can’t do sympathetic magic, the only magic that she can do well. I don’t know why I know that, but I do. Love these wings. Fatin, Davina, and Beren have agreed to change their wicked ways.
Grandpa’s a little more difficult. He has been mind-controlled for a long time. What if he doesn’t know how to think on his own anymore? I’m going to need some help deciding this one.
I make a shooing gesture with my hand towards the others. “Go. Go home. At least, go away.” Turning to Grandpa, I say, “You stay.”
The others look at me, then at each other, and then at me again. “Go!” I say more forcefully.
They don’t wait any longer. They start walking towards the cars. Without stopping to pick up Midar. “Uh uh, you are not leaving him here.” Reluctantly, Fatin and Beren come back and after a couple of minutes of struggling with Midar’s incredible body weight, they are finally able to shove him into the back seat of one of the cars. I’m pretty sure they did a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to determine who has to drive that car and listen to the agony of depression dribbling from Midar’s mouth.
After they are in their cars and backing out of their driveway, I turn to Grandpa again. “Come on.” He doesn’t question me; he follows me towards the house where I’m going to let Grandma decide his fate. It seems only fair.
Chapter 18
When I bring down the wall, four extremely angry people are waiting for me. Mom and Dad look angrier than I’ve ever seen them before. Kallen looks like he may never speak to me again. Grandma, on the other hand, looks like she’s a lot angrier with Grandpa than me if the death rays shooting from her eyes mean anything.
Zac definitely isn’t mad at me. “Xan, you have wings! That is awesome. Where’d you get them?? Can I get some, too?”
I’m charmed by his excitement and I swoop down and give him a hug. Which he squirms out of as soon as he can. Mussing his hair, I say, “Sorry, buddy. No wings for you.” Though he does have Angel blood running through his veins, so maybe someday.
“Ah, that sucks. You get all the cool stuff.”
“Yeah, but I get all the mean people coming after me, too.”
“Uh uh, not just you. Aunt Barb and I got kidnapped today.” He says it like it’s the coolest thing in the whole world.
“Xandra, we need to talk to you,” Mom says through a jaw that is clenched so hard I can barely make out her words. The look on her face gets her meaning across in a decidedly efficient way, though.
“Um, Zac, I have to talk to Mom and Dad for a few minutes. Can you go play in your room for a little while?”
He looks like he wants to argue until he sees Mom’s face. He’s a smart boy. He makes himself scarce fast.
“So, should I sit down or do you guys want to kill me standing up?”
“Not funny,” Dad says. His arms are crossed over his chest and the expression on his face is about ten times angrier than the first time he saw me and Kallen kissing. Dad is officially a sociopath now, I think. I wonder if there’s a cure. Not like ghosts can take antipsychotic drugs.
“Kitchen, now,” Mom says but since her jaw is no less tense than it was a minute ago, it comes out as ‘itchen ow.’
“You sit,” Grandma says to Grandpa. “We’ll deal with you in a minute.” He starts to speak but Grandma holds up her hand to stop him. “Save it.” Just like Zac, he knows when not to argue. He sits down on the couch without saying a word. Grandma turns to follow Mom and Dad into the kitchen.
I pull my bottom lip through my teeth as I look at Kallen. His green eyes are sparking in fury, and underneath that, hurt. “I’m sorry,” I mouth but he doesn’t even acknowledge it. He turns and follows the rest into the kitchen without a backwards glance at me. With feet that feel like they’re walking through a combination of cement and quicksand, I walk towards the jury who will decide my punishment. Ironic after I just so easily passed down my own on the Witan.
Mom is pacing the kitchen, not even noticing that she keep
s going through a chair each time she passes the table. She stops when she sees me standing in the doorway. My wings are almost tall enough to touch the frame on top. It’s amazing how I don’t even notice them anymore. They already feel like a part of me. I’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Dad’s the first one to speak. In a voice he has never used with me before, he bites out, “Of all the selfish, irresponsible, egotistical, idiotic, reckless, arrogant, foolish things to do, what you did out there topped the list. And where the hell did those wings come from?!”
I’m stunned into silence for a moment by the amount of emotion he packed into those two sentences. So, Kallen answers him for me. “They’re Angel wings.”
Dad’s head spins so far to look at Kallen that if he wasn’t a ghost, he probably would have broken his neck. “What are you talking about?”
Instead of answering Dad, he looks at Grandma. “I am assuming since the wings are out of the bag, I am not violating my oath.” Grandma shakes her head solemnly. “Then perhaps this is a tale for you to tell.”
Grandma looks like she’d rather eat fried grasshoppers dipped in liver sauce than tell the story. But she does. She explains who she is, why she fell, and how miserable she truly has been over the last eighteen years. At least now, I believe that’s true.
Mom’s in shock. “Angel. You’re an Angel? And now Xandra’s an Angel?”
“I – I don’t quite know what Xandra is,” Grandma admits.
“No, not technically,” I say and I explain the whole wing thing and how we had the prophecy all wrong. Relief is visible on all of their faces when they hear that. I go on to tell them what I did with the Witan and despite everything, Mom and Dad look proud of me. Aunt Barb looks like she’s still in shock over the whole thing.
A lot of my parents’ anger seems to have dissipated as the stories have been told. I think I may get out of this without being grounded for life or anything like that. Although, Kallen still looks pretty murderous where he’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulder leaning against the far wall. I’m dreading talking to him but it has to be done.
“Um, Mom, Dad, would you mind if I talked to Kallen alone for a few minutes?”
Mom looks from me to Kallen and back again. “I think that would be a good idea.”
Without a word, Kallen walks out of the kitchen and down the hall towards my bedroom. I don’t think he’s going to let me off as easily as my parents. Looking at Grandma, I say, “I saved Grandpa for you to decide his fate – about whether he should still be King or not. I was thinking that maybe the Witches needed their Queen more than they need the King that’s been led around like a kitten by his Witan; but I don’t know if you want the job or not. Your call. Whatever you decide is fine with me and I’ll back you up.”
Grandma sighs. “I’m not sure what I want to do with him right now.”
“I am,” Dad growls and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes that tells me I really don’t want to know what he’s thinking.
Grandma gets up from her chair at the table. “I’ll go get him.”
I take that as my cue to go after Kallen. I walk down the hall and when I get to my room, I step in and close the door behind me. He’s leaning his back against my dresser with one foot crossed in front of the other and his muscular arms are again folded tightly across his chest.
I don’t say anything because I’m not quite sure what to say. He doesn’t have the same problem. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
That was not anywhere close to what I thought he was going to say. “What?”
“I asked – are you trying to get me killed?” His words are terse and his face unyielding. And I still don’t know what he’s talking about.
I say the only thing that comes to mind. “No.”
“Your actions belie the truth in that word.”
Frustrated, I huff, “Will you please tell me what you’re talking about?”
He pushes away from the dresser but his arms remain crossed as he comes to a halt right in front of me, forcing me to look up at him. I still hate it when he does that. “You do recall that I have taken a blood oath, do you not?”
My face folds into a deep frown. “Yeah, what does that have to do with anything?” And then my mind catches up with my mouth. “Oh.”
“It is difficult to protect a life as if it’s my own when I am locked in a house by the magic of the person I am supposed to be protecting.”
“So, even if I don’t need your help, under the oath you still have to try to protect me or you could die.” He gives me a ‘now you got it’ look. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”
“No, I do not believe you have.” Actually, I did mouth it to him but I guess it doesn’t really count if you don’t say it out loud.
“Do you hate me now?”
His brows slam together in a scowl. “Is your world so black and white that I must either love you or hate you?”
Okay, when he puts it that way, it does sound silly. But, I’ve never been in love before; I’m still trying to figure these things out. “No. But you look really, really mad.”
The scowl is still on his face. “Then my physical form is adequately expressing my feelings.”
I attempt to charm him with a dazzling smile. “What can I do to make you not mad at me anymore?”
I squeal when his arms swoop down and lift me off the floor and then he tosses me lightly on my bed. I thought it was going to hurt since my wings are still here, but it felt like landing on a down pillow. These things are surprisingly comfortable.
Looking down at me with a decidedly less angry face, Kallen says, “I would ask you to promise never to do it again, but I believe you to be too pig-headed to actually follow through with that.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Gee, thanks.”
Stretching out next to me on the bed, he props himself up on his elbow and strokes the feathers of the wing closest to him. “You scared me near to death when you suddenly had wings. I thought you had died.”
I nod. “I think everyone did. I even asked the other Angels that when I first met them.”
His scowl is gone and the smallest of smiles touches his lips. “As I said before, you certainly do keep life interesting.” I understand now that he was more scared for my safety than angry with me.
“I really am sorry. I didn’t want any of you to get hurt.”
“I know,” he says as he lowers his head and captures his lips with mine in a mind-blowing kiss. No, he’s definitely not mad at me anymore.
When he finally lets me up for air, I say, “Want to go flying? I want to test these wings out while I have them.”
He chuckles. “I would enjoy watching you try to manage flying.”
“Hey,” I punch him lightly in the arm. “I flew outside and I did okay.”
Standing up and then offering his hand to pull me up, he says, “We shall see.”
Just as we enter the kitchen, the doorbell rings. My parents and grandparents instantly halt their conversation and turn to look at me as if I know who it is. I don’t. But, I’ll find out. Kallen walks with me to the front door and when I swing it open, it’s his jaw that drops to the floor.
Standing at the door is one of the tallest women I have ever seen. She’s at least as tall as Kallen. Her face is lined with wrinkles, but most seem to be laugh lines. Her skin is tan, but not overly so, and her black hair is salted here and there with gray. It’s her eyes that tell me she’s a Fairy. No one else has green eyes like that. As a matter of fact, they look exactly like Kallen’s.
“Grandmother?” is all Kallen says when he finds his voice.
She reaches out and pats his cheek. “Hello, my dear grandson.” Turning to me, she holds out her hand. “You are Xandra. My name is Isla, Kallen’s grandmother. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
I put my hand in hers and it looks so small in comparison. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Your wings are beautiful, may I?
” I nod numbly and she reaches out to touch one of my feathers. Bringing her hand back to her side, she says, “Now that you finally know your true destiny, we have a lot of work to do. Are your parents in there?” she asks pointing towards the kitchen. I nod, still dumbfounded.
Kallen asks, “You knew all along, before you sent me here, and you didn’t tell me?”
His grandmother grins. “Of course not, you needed to follow your destiny on your own. I simply gave you a little push in the right direction.” Turning back to me, she says, “Now, we really must get started, we haven’t much time to prepare.”
“To prepare for what?” I ask.
She laughs. “Why, to save our realms, of course.” She pats me and Kallen both on the shoulder. “You two take a moment to let it all sink in. I’ll be in the kitchen with your parents and grandparents.” And then she walks past us and out of sight into the kitchen.