Magic Born

by Rayanne Haines

  Collum interrupted him before he pushed further. “Stop it, Neeren. You’re overstepping.”

  Neeren glared at the dragon. “You have the power of a God on earth. A God’s raven sits at your side. Help me, for fuck’s sake.”

  Collum heaved a huge sigh. “Do you think her ancestors would harm her?”

  Neeren looked at Collum like he was daft. “They took her against her will.”

  “I understand . . .”

  “I don't think you do. Maria has been used as a pawn her entire life. She has been beaten and controlled by everyone who ever claimed to be on her side. On the very night she finally felt safe enough to trust someone, her ancestors once again took her free will away. I am going to retrieve her.”

  Glenn wiped his palms on his robe before standing. “Neeren is right. Maria has been through enough. I will help. But you don't need to dream walk.”

  The man stared out the window to the Pacific Ocean below. “All you need do is drown long enough to stop your heart. The water will protect you as it always has. Hold you in a form of stasis. I can open the door to the other realm the moment you die, and you will open your eyes on the other side.”

  Chapter 24

  Mar opened her eyes to find herself laying on a lounge in garden overflowing with sage and gardenias. Her kidnappers sat in wicker chairs, drinking ice tea, or leaned over flower beds weeding. Wind chimes tinkled in the air. Water trickled from a moss-covered water fountain. Incense burned in the corner.

  Mar groaned. Fucking great. They were hippies. Could they possibly have veered from the stereotype?

  When she tried to sit up, Xiomara rushed to her side. “Easy. You'll be a bit dizzy from the trip. Don't move too quickly.”

  Mar pushed her hands away. “Now you're worried about my welfare? You drowned me in some ritual white light after I explicitly said I didn't want to come with you.”

  “Well, yes. But you were being difficult.”

  “Me? I was being difficult?” As Mar prepared to blast then with the full extent of her anger she looked down and realized she was still in her wrapper. “Hold up. One of you witches better of brought my clothes with you.”

  The women looked at each other, and her, with confusion written clearly on their treacherous faces.

  Mar exploded. “Do not tell me you brought me here without my clothing! What am I supposed to wear?”

  You can borrow something from Sofia. She looks close to your size,” Xiomara offered helpfully.

  Mar pushed herself up from the lounger, shaking off Xiomara's hands when she tried to help her stand. “I do not wear borrowed clothes,” she spit out between gritted teeth. “And I'm sure as hell not wearing some hand me down hippie rag.”

  “Hey,” Sofia shouted from the flower bed.

  “You're being ridiculous,” Xiomara said.

  “If you'd given me the chance to pack I would have my own clothing. I would have my spell casting shoes. I'd have my Saturday hat. I'd have my makeup bag. Fuck,” Mar screamed. “Why couldn't you wait one goddamn day and give me the tiniest bit of control over my life.”

  Exhausted, Mar sat down, tightening the wrap around her shoulders. “I'm cold. I need a blanket.”

  As Xi sat beside her, Mar gave her the stink eye. The woman had the audacity to laugh. It was a kind laugh at least.

  “Look, I know this isn't how you wanted today to turn out. I also know if we'd given you time to think about it you'd have pushed us off a day, and then another, and another.”

  “No I wouldn't.”

  “Yes, you would. You're freshly in love with your cat. He'll protect you, save you, make all the bad people go away. And you'd end up letting him. You don't have time. You need to study.”

  “You don't know what I would have done.”

  “Of course, I do.” Xiomara pointed to the other witches. “We all do. Because we've gone through exactly what you have. Waiting for the one. Never wanting to leave them. Your training is more important.”

  Sofia wrapped a second blanket around Mar’s shoulders. “My guy was a carpenter. Goddess he was amazing. He died two years before I did. We had a long happy life together. He made me leave to practice my training when I tried to refuse.”

  Xiomara smiled. “Mine was a farmer. Built like an ox. When I disappeared, he thought I'd left him. It took me years to win his trust back.”

  “Neeren is not a farmer,” Mar said.

  Xiomara rolled her eyes. “He's only a man. Besides there are many handsome warriors in this realm to help take your mind off him while you’re here.”

  Annoyance colored Mar's voice. “He's the king of the Parthen. He can walk into the dream of every living creature in existence. He controls every drop of water on earth and the precipitation in the sky. He isn't only a man. You should have waited.”

  Xiomara waved off her rebuke. For a moment, Maria felt sorry for her. But only for a moment. Her ancestors were a little too high on themselves for their own good. It didn't matter how powerful they were. If she was going to join their ranks they needed to start listening to her.

  “I'll train, but you better come up with a better plan for clothing me. You better tell me more about my father. And you also better be prepared for my lover to show up.”

  “We are in the other realm,” Xiomara replied. “He can't reach us.”

  Mar reached for her iced tea. She sat, crossed her legs on the chair, and let the morning sun soak into her weary flesh. “Sure, you birds keep telling yourselves that.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Later that afternoon—after a warm shower and a hot lunch—Mar joined her ancestors in their spell room. Ancient texts lay in piles among tables covered with bottles of herbs, potions, and elixirs. Fire burned in the soot covered corner wood stove. Though chaotic, the room was meticulously clean.

  The women lived in a place Mar could only describe as a commune. One large house held the kitchen, dining room, living room, a couple guest rooms with showers, and a spell room. Smaller cottages surrounded the main house, offering each of the woman their own space to retreat too. The main garden connected to the main house, but each cottage had its own mini garden as well.

  It was beautiful. If you went in for the whole hippy dippy thing. For Mar though, a house was not a home without access to Saks Fifth Avenue, the corner jazz bar, and a gym with a sauna.

  Sofia found a decent pair of jeans and a T-shirt for her to borrow. Mar's skin itched but at least they hadn't tried to pawn off a linen Mumu on her. She shivered thinking about it.

  “Are you paying attention?” Xiomara asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Of course, I'm paying attention.”

  “Let's start with a simple volume of transferring spells.”

  “Actually, let's start with a simple conversation about my father.”

  Xiomara grimaced. “We've told you everything.”

  “Um, nope. I don't think you have. Tell me about my mother's past.”

  “Very, well.” Xiomara laid the text on the table and gestured for Mar to sit beside her. “Your father, Olorin was well known as a skilled sorcerer. He and Isabella dated for many years. They were thick as thieves but your mother never had his skill with magic. None of us thought it would last.

  “Go on,” Mar prompted.

  “We were wrong. Over time the relationship changed. Olorin became stronger, more competitive. Isabella followed him like a puppy rather than a lover. Next thing we know, he's gone, she’s pregnant, and she's hooking up with a vampire. We watched. We listened. Isabella was ambitious and committed to whatever path she was on. But also, scared. More scared of a missing ex-boyfriend than hooking up with the vampires.”

  Mar spun the name around in her head. Placed it in a little pocket to bring out later when she was alone. “Do you
think Olorin’s dangerous?”

  “We do. Obviously, so does your mom.”

  “Will the vampires figure out I'm not the prophesized child?”

  “Maybe? The jig is probably up now. Which means your mom will be a vampire without a coven.”

  “You all think he's still alive?”

  Xiomara nodded. “We do. We believe he was banished to the demon realms and is still bound within. Sadly, we don't know which one. The way the runes are behaving, we wonder if someone found him.”

  “You think my mom did?”

  “Maybe. She never could say no to him.”

  “But you just said she feared him.”

  “Your mom always had bad taste in men. With Olorin? Sometimes love can blind you to the truth.”

  “Does she have enough power to help him?”

  Xiomara simply shrugged, leaving Mar dissatisfied, verging on pissed.

  “I truly think I grew up in the most dysfunctional family in the world.”

  “It's certainly possible,” Xiomara replied.

  Mar burst out laughing. “This sucks so hard. My mom sucks. She sure knows how to pick them.”

  “Isabella is a complicated woman.”

  “What am I supposed to do with all this information?”

  “Be ready. Train. Be wary. Become stronger than your adversaries. Watch and wait. That's all you can do for now.

  The image of Isabella lying beside her on the hospital gurney flitted through Mar’s head. The image shifted to her mother opening a portal and the man waiting for her in the shadows. Was Isabella evil? Confused? Playing them all or helping them? Mar had never been so confused in her life. Xiomara was right. If Mar wanted a life outside of Isabella’s mistakes she needed to train. She needed her ancestors now more than ever.

  “Okay, let's do some learning.”

  Xiomara grinned while grabbing books and plopping them on Mar's lap. “Good. Study all the ancient texts in this room. These books are why you're here. They can't leave this realm. We can't risk them falling into the wrong hands.”

  Mar ran her fingers over old leather bindings. Energy pulsed beneath her palm. She sighed as light filled her chest.

  “The books recognize you already. This is good,” Sofia said from the corner.

  “Is my father the darkness that I'm supposed to fight?” Mar asked.

  “We don't know.” Xiomara lifted her hands in a sign of frustration. “The runes have shown darkness sweeping across the land. It will cover the earth in shadow and devour everything in its way.”

  “Yeah. Not vague at all,” Mar complained. Behind her Sofia snorted. She was also sure Juanita smirked.

  “It's only vague if you want it to be,” Xiomara replied.

  “Whatever. So even though you suspect my pops is somehow involved, you have no idea what or who the darkness is, or exactly when it's coming. But it's going to devour everything in its path. About, right?”

  Xiomara sat down and sighed. “Yes.”

  “And when did the runes tell you this?” Mar asked.

  “We've known for many years. Every time we throw them the same thing comes up. Shadow. Power. A month ago, the runes became urgent.”

  “What happened a month ago?” Mar asked.

  Shadows flitted across Xiomara’s eyes. “Many things. Your new best friend came into her power, setting in motion a landslide of power shifts, including the death of two very old and powerful elementals. Your mother's ambition resulted in the deaths of at least half a dozen high level immortals. This has culminated in the Guardian, Collum Thronus, recruiting new members such as yourself and setting even stricter restrictions over the Vampire kind. And finally—Domhall Taleisin has been opening doors to realms he shouldn't.”

  “Domhall? What does he have to do with anything?”

  “The man has no boundaries at all. I swear.” Xiomara tossed her ghostly hair behind her shoulders.

  That was the other thing Mar needed to remember. Her ancestors were ghosts. In this realm, they remained mostly corporeal but when they became angry or annoyed they'd waver a bit like an old TV screen during a power surge. To be fully corporeal would take tremendous amounts of power.

  Xiomara continued. “He showed up here last week to tell us to check the runes. Like we don't know how to handle our own magic—thank you very much.”

  “Domhall is very old and powerful.”

  “We know,” Xiomara snapped. “We don't need him to tell us how to do our jobs.”

  “He's pretty good at manipulating things the way he wants them to turn out,” Mar said. “His ends usually justify the means.”

  “You’re sounding more and more like your Cat.”

  “No. I'm sounding more and more like a woman who is sick of making excuses for assholes or turning a blind eye to murder because it doesn't affect me.”

  Xiomara wrung her hands together. “We owe you an apology. We hid the truth of your past from you. We were protecting you, but we went about it the wrong way.”

  The words slid over Mar's skin like a cruel promise. “A little late to the apology game, Xi. I mean I had no idea what was going on. I find out I'm a vampire—that sucked hard by the way. Only to find out a day later it’s another big lie.”

  “Many things happened to you that a child should never have to endure. We wanted to protect you.”

  The other ancestors crowded around Mar nodding their heads and looking remorseful. Remorseful but still selfish, she thought.

  Xiomara continued. “We need you to see what's coming. You won't be able to do this if you can't let go of your anger.”

  Mar exhaled a long slow breath. “I'm not angry.”

  Xiomara shifted. Sofia looked away. Juanita placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Tears burned at the back of Mar's throat. She was angry. Livid. Everyone she'd ever loved or believed in as a child had lied to her. She had a father who might possibly be the darkness she'd have to fight. She was so angry her teeth hurt. Domhall had probably known too. At least she knew Neeren hadn't lied.

  Mar flopped back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Fine. I'm angry. I'll get over it. Teach me what I need to know.”

  Laughter burst out of Mar's chest at the looks on her ancestors faces. “What? I don't hold grudges okay. If I did I'd have no friends. Brew up what you need to and tell me what book to read.” She snapped her fingers. “Let's move. The sooner we finish this the sooner I can go home.”

  The witches jumped to attention. Rushed about the room gathering supplies. A small, green glass bottle. A dusty burlap sack filled with dried herbs. A knot of sage. They were concise and efficient.

  Xiomara handed her a leather-bound book of such substantial age, cracking it open felt spiritual. Yellowed pages as delicate as bird feathers lay inside. Ancient spells, many written in a language older than human language, competed for her attention.

  “Do you feel it?” Xiomara asked.

  Of course, she felt it. Mar was no fool. The essence of the goddess imbued the book. Her ancient wisdom inscribed on the pages in hopes the light would always overcome the dark. “How old is this text?”

  “No one knows,” Xiomara replied. “It rested in this place long before I came. And I have rested here for over fifteen hundred years. The spell you must practice is on page fifty.”

  Maria turned brittle pages. When she came to the page she wanted, she gasped. A bright white page of fresh parchment covered in crisp ink lay in front of her.

  “Tell me what you see,” Xiomara said.

  “The page is brand new. It shouldn't be in this book.”

  “Thus, it has ever been. New witch. New spell. The goddess offers a spell meant for you alone to weave. Her gift to each new conduit.”

  Maria reverently s
troked the paper. A new spell. For her. From the goddess. It was almost better than sex. A thrum of energy vibrated from the page to her fingers. Energy that felt like hope and home. The one constant in her life had been magic. Whatever shit came her way, Mar always knew the goddess had plans for her. Kept her going when nothing else would've.

  She settled into the corner with the book in hand. Sofia handed her a cup of green tea.

  “You ladies have rum in this realm?” Mar asked.

  Sofia grinned. “Rum is for sissy's. Moonshine is the elixir of champions around here.” She pulled a small clay bottle from the pocket of her linen dress and discretely poured a splash in Mar's tea before putting a finger to her mouth.

  The stuff smelled like dirty socks. Mar grimaced but kept her mouth shut. She made herself comfortable in the large burgundy lounge chair and prepared to spend the afternoon studying. For the first time since being ripped away from Neeren, excitement flickered in her chest.

  Half an hour and the cup of toxic tea later, one of the witches screeched. Shocked out of her studying, Mar bolted upright. Her feet landed in water and she squealed at the contact. Around her the witches panicked. Xiomara and Sofia yelled at the others to pick everything up off the floor. They grabbed books and bottles, threw pillows on top of tables, and papers on top of pillows. Water slowly covered the floor, reaching their ankles. Water filled the space, rising to knee length. The liquid shifted, consolidating into a deeper pool in the middle of the room.

  Xiomara called for the women to help her cast a protection spell.

  Mar watched awestruck as the water covered everything in its path. Watching her ancestors scramble filled her with an odd sense of delight.

  The book in her hand began to quiver as though looking for attention. Words appeared below the text already on the page. Crouched on the edge of the chair and keeping an eye on the pool forming in the center of the room, Mar read the words forming on the paper. A glow started in her belly, weaved up to her chest, and settled around her heart.