The Witch's Angel

by Arissa L. Utemark

  …Or something. I don’t want to talk about it.

  Anyway, there stood my brother in my mom’s body with an eerily similar smirk between the two of them.

  “You want to practice?” Cale asked in my mother’s smooth alto, opening her arms in invitation.

  “Ugh, stop that!” I demanded, punching him in the shoulder, watching as the illusion melted away to reveal Cale, laughing and rubbing where I’d hit him. “It creeps me out when you do that.”

  “Just though I’d offer.” Cale held up his hands in surrender. I felt myself smile a little at his teasing.

  As much as I bitch about them, my family is pretty great.

  “Theo’s back.” I told him.

  “I heard the lovebirds had returned.” Cale said, slipping his hands into his pockets.

  “I was thinking you, me, and him could all go out to dinner tonight.” I suggested. “Just the three of us. Maybe mom if she’s up to it.”

  Cale winced, baring his teeth.

  “As great as that sounds, Danny, I’m afraid I can’t.” he said woefully. “I’ve got some work to do tonight.”

  My heart sank in disappointment. Damn. I had really got myself jazzed for that idea in the four seconds it was in my head.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “I will definitely take a rain check. Some other time, I promise.” Cale said, putting his hands on my shoulders before he dropped them to his sides.

  I saw a flash of red hair over his shoulder. I peeked over the fabric of his suit jacket and smiled.

  “Talia, how are you?” I asked her.

  She gave me a small, angular smile in return, her back straight, her chin high, her eyes flickering over to me as if not noticing me before.

  “Very well, Princess. Thank you.” She answered politely in a quiet voice.

  The short, civil greeting stung a bit, to be sure, especially when I think of how close Talia and I used to be, how much she used to smile. But like I said, my dad’s death affected us all in different ways. Talia drew herself inward, closer to Cale, which is understandable, I suppose.

  Didn’t mean it couldn’t make me sad that the two of us didn’t talk as much anymore.

  “Are you ready?” Cale turned to Talia. She nodded and smiled at him.

  “I guess I’ll see you two later.” I smiled thinly as Cale put his arm around Talia’s shoulders.

  “Nothing to be afraid of.” Cale threw over his shoulder as he and Talia walked away.

  “Easy for you to say.” I muttered to myself before I pushed open the door.

  Chapter 6

  The foyer to the Queen’s office was open and inviting, the glass an open invitation to enjoy an impressive view of the city below. The furniture was sleek and comfortable – tables, waiting room chairs, and a desk, at which sat a friendly man with smiling brown eyes.

  “Hey, Marcus.” I greeted my mother’s assistant. “I haven’t seen you in a million years.”

  “I brought you a memo last week, Your Highness.” Marcus laughed.

  “Still, it seems longer.” I answered. It was good of him to play along with my teasing. He and Rodney should hang out more. “You should come visit more often. I’m only a few floors down.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Marcus nodded, chuckling. He tipped his head toward the door to my mom’s office. “She’s ready for you.”

  “I figured.” I smiled. “Thanks.”

  I pushed open the door as quietly as I could, the well-oiled hinges noiseless as it allowed me entry. I stepped into the office and let the door swing closed behind me.

  Her chair was turned away from the entryway, as it usually was, facing toward the cabinet behind her desk. The reason was obvious.

  The photo was taken outside in the sunshine. Dad’s smile was wide and delighted as he lifted up my mom. She threw her arms around his neck and beamed into the camera next to him. Her face was rosy and the sun shined on her long chocolate brown hair. Dad had leaned his forehead into mom’s hair, his eyes crinkled with mirth.

  I felt a pang that had become familiar over the past year.

  I missed him so much.

  A rap of my knuckles on the wooden frame next to the now closed door cut through the silence of the office.

  “Come in.” a low voice from the occupant of the chair beckoned me.

  I stepped further into the room, putting my hands in my pockets, unsure of what to do with them as Queen Anna swiveled around to face me.

  Mom looked at me levelly from behind her desk, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, the warmth not quite reaching her eyes. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun, the way she wore it mostly these days, her suit pristine, as always. The very picture of the great leader she is.

  Losing an Angel would have broken most people. Not my mom.

  “You, uh, wanted to see me?” I asked her, trying not to shift on my feet.

  “Don’t stutter, Dear.” She chided off-handedly.

  “Sorry.” I cleared my throat.

  Mom released a small sigh from her nose before getting up from her desk gracefully and making her way over to me, her movements smooth and elegant.

  I felt sort of like a Clydesdale in comparison.

  “Did you go out today?” She asked me. My stomach dropped.

  “I, uh-“ I started.

  “Don’t stutter.” She reminded me.

  “No, I had-I had a thing to look at for the Wing Guard today. I didn’t get a chance to-“ I stumbled to a halt when I saw her sigh deeply, her eyebrows drawing together. “I can do it later. I can go out later.”

  “I don’t understand. How do you expect to find your Angel if you don’t go out and look?”

  I felt my gaze go to my shoes, frustration creeping up on me. I tramped it down, hating that I kept feeling so sensitive about this.

  “I’m sorry.” I told the ground. “I was busy.”

  I didn’t have time to go trolling for a significant other because my luck gave me an Angel that was really fucking good at hiding.

  “You have responsibilities.” Mom insisted. “Don’t you want to find-?”

  “I do.” I said quickly, nodding my head. “I do.”

  I felt the pull just like everyone else, the ancient desire that all of us had for a partner. That’s how the system was built at the end of the Dawn Wars - for the people fighting this fight to find each other so they didn’t have to fight it alone.

  But at this point, it’s hard to see the search for my match as anything other than an obligation.

  “Come.” I head my mother murmur, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder as her eyes found mine in soothingly. “I have something for you.”

  She pulled me over to a sleek gray couch in one corner of the office, a long box resting on the table next to it. We sat down and she pulled the package into her lap, laying her hands over it reverently.

  “I thought about giving this to you tomorrow,” she began, “but I figured you might be able to use it right away.”

  She handed me the box and I felt myself getting a bit confused. What was tomorrow?

  “Happy Birthday, Danny.” Mom smiled.

  Oh. That was tomorrow.

  Hey, cut me some slack. I forgot, okay? It’s not like the ones between 21 and retirement are that important anyway.

  I felt my hands shaking a little as they reached to open the box. I wondered if this is what I thought it was. No, it can’t possibly be what I thought it was. That was…well, that was important and would probably go to Cale.

  The lid slid off, revealing my gift resting on a bed of soft cotton inside the box. The dark wood curved beautifully, intricate designs woven into the handle with the grain, spells that had been cast with it over the years etching themselves like a story into the lines grown into the timber, swirling up with a graceful sweep to the tip.

  I ran my hand along the wood, the solid oaky power flowing into my body at the touch. I drew a shaky breath at the feeling.

  “This…” I
began unsteadily. “This is your wand.”

  “Now it’s yours.” I heard my mother say. I looked up at her seeing her eyes crinkle at me proudly and I felt my chest tighten. “Your grandmother gave me this just before she died. It was her mother’s before her.”

  “It’s…it’s incredible.” I shivered, running my fingers along the grain.

  “This wand has been passed down through our family for generations.” She explained. “It will help you become the woman you were meant to be.”

  “Thank you.” I whispered, still staring at the wand. I remembered the story of its origin and it was no mystery why it was so important. It was made from a branch severed by a bolt of lightning. The wand had known the touch of both Heaven and Earth, a symbol for the union of the two cosmic forces of this planet.

  Meant for a Queen.

  “I-“ I started, unsure how to explain how unsure I was feeling. “I don’t know if…I don’t know if I can accept this. Shouldn’t…”

  I swallowed, looking into my mother’s eyes. Her expression was a soft question and I screwed up my courage.

  “Shouldn’t this go to Cale?” I finally got out.

  I waited, breathlessly for the Queen’s disappointment, but instead, her expression just grew softer.

  “Why do you say that?” Mom asked.

  “He’s…he’s older. Stronger. He has Talia…” I listed. “I still…I still haven’t found…”

  I trailed off, knowing she would realize what I was talking about without me having to finish the thought. I looked down at the ground, viciously tramping down the intrusive thought that there was something wrong with me, that I had done something wrong and driven my Angel away somehow. I’m tired of feeling this way, damn it.

  I saw my mother’s warm, solid hands cover mine still resting on the wand and heard her soothing voice speak.

  “You are so compassionate and loving, Danny. I’m so proud of you.” She said firmly. “You just need to believe in yourself, my darling.”

  I drank her words in and tried to take them to heart, nodding down at the floor. Her cool finger hooked under my chin and brought my gaze to hers, her expression one of determined understanding and I nodded again, still unsure of myself. She sighed, gathering me against her and I relished the feeling of her strong arms around me. I let my head fall against her shoulder, breathing in the comfort she offered.

  The wand sat like an omen in my lap, its weight pulling me toward something I wasn’t quite sure about yet.

  Happy Birthday to me.

  Chapter 7

  General Patrick felt the wind ruffle his dark hair as he stepped out onto the roof of the Beacon. He breathed in the air, refreshingly cool at this altitude, eager to feel the thrill of flight once again. Even if it was part of his duties, flying never lost its charm.

  “You have to go tonight?” Theo had asked him as he’d readied himself for his trip to the northern outpost.

  “We’ve been gone for weeks.” Patrick reasoned as he changed out of his suit and into casual warmer clothes for the flight. “I need to report to the borders for inspection. It’s easiest to start out and work in.”

  “You can do some inspecting just fine here.” Theo joked suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. Patrick sent him a look as he plopped on their bed, lacing up his boots. The Prince smiled. “What? Too obvious?”

  “Slightly.” Patrick answered, looking back down at his laces. He felt the bed dip slightly as Theo climbed up behind him to rub his shoulders. “I’m more disappointed at your lack of imagination.”

  “Well, we’re married now, so this is all you got.” Theo leaned in close to Patrick’s ear to whisper dramatically, “Forever.”

  Patrick felt his resolve crumble, a smile fighting its way onto his face as he tugged the last knot into the laces of his boots. He turned and grabbed the Prince’s shoulders, pinning him down on the bed next to him. Theo let himself be moved, laughing, pulling Patrick’s face close with a tug of his shirtfront.

  “I still have work to do.” The General growled against Theo’s lips. They shared a kiss, short and sweet, before the Prince looked up at his husband.

  “Back to work I suppose.” Theo admitted quietly, running his thumb along Patrick’s bottom lip. “When will you be back?”

  “Later tonight if the weather holds.” Patrick answered, feeling the distance already. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

  “Be careful.” Theo murmured, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and pulling him closer, his eyebrows drawing together.

  Patrick felt himself smirk.

  “You can worry all you want about me, but I can’t be concerned about you?” Patrick asked, thinking of his conversation with the Princess earlier. A stab of concern jabbed at him once again at the thought of leaving.

  But the Barrier at the Beacon wasn’t the only one in existence; and the small tears leading to the Void was where most knightmares managed to get through. Princess Danielle was right. The Beacon isn’t where the Wing Guard was needed.

  “Yep.” Theo said simply to his question.

  “That hardly seems fair.” Patrick complained only to watch Theo’s smile grow wider.

  “Well, that’s just too bad, my love.”

  The sun was sinking below the horizon, the dying rays of last light just beginning to play tricks on the colors of the world. The visibility was low enough to make him harder to spot, even with his wingspan, dark and expansive across the starry sky. It was time to go.

  Patrick walked across the rooftop, the gravel crunching under his boots. He let out a blissful sigh of relief as he let his wings unfold themselves from his back, sliding out through the seams in his jacket. The bones popped a few times softly, the beautiful pure black feathers shuddering as the muscles stretched. He rolled his shoulders, alleviating some of the stiffness of keeping his wings folded all day. He have them a few strokes; the displaced air moving around him as the blood flowed swiftly through the veins through his body.

  He took a last deep breath before taking a running start toward the edge of the roof, his wings folded tightly behind him, streamlined as the air whipped around his body. His feet pounded against the rooftop before finally reaching the drop off, the soles of his boots gripping the edge briefly before his powerful legs launched him into a freefall.

  His wings burst open from his back with a whoosh, catching a warm updraft from the pavement below and sending him gliding through the air. He pumped his wings once, twice, three times, feeling the powerful muscles in his chest and back tilt his wings to gain more altitude.

  The evening sky was clear, but a glance to the west told him clouds would threaten his journey if he didn’t hurry.

  He pointed himself to the north and climbed higher, slipping smoothly into a tailwind. The city lights shone beneath him and stars dotted the cloudless sky above him as he raced the storm approaching.

  Chapter 8

  The small shack was the only thing that marked the northern outpost, setting it apart from its forested surroundings. The weathered wooden boards creaked under the Lieutenant’s feet as she stepped out into the porch of the little hut, pulling her coat around her against the breeze that ruffled the trees around them.

  Jana was really looking forward to getting off this detail.

  She was new to the Wing Guard, willing to work her way up. This was an easy start. A relatively small tear in the dimension was a chance to really get a feel for how the barriers worked.

  “Make sure their creepy little tentacles don’t get ya!” Came a gruff call from inside the shack, followed by chainsaw-shrill laughter. Jana rolled her eyes.

  She wasn’t particularly impressed with the comrade she’d been assigned for this post.

  Jana stepped off the porch and over to a spot in the forest marked by two towering trees, not at all exceptional to the untrained eye.

  Jana was far from untrained.

  She stepped up to the trees and spread her arms wide. A steady breath allowed her white spe
ckled wings to pull themselves out of the back of her jacket, stretching out on either side of her. Concentrating, she felt her wings drawing in power from the air around her and filling her with Heavenly power. Her mind reached forward and pressed into the cosmic fabric stretched between the two trees, applying gentle pressure until the split was visible.

  The barrier held, a transparent film keeping the teeming darkness on the other side as it slithered over and on top of itself. The hisses and screeches of the knightmares were louder than usual, frenzied in a way that creatures trapped in the Void since the Dawn Wars shouldn’t have been, but seemed particularly so tonight.

  She felt one of them lash out against the barrier and she withdrew her power, letting the tear close with a crackle.

  “Yeah, yeah. Pipe down in here.” She scolded softly to the forest around her, shaking the access energy from her wings. She headed back to the hut and thumped up the steps, pushing the door open and walking back inside. She rubbed her hands together, the power drain making her limbs cold.

  “You manage?” Her coworker, Frank, grunted, his bloodshot eyes not leaving the magazine that was open on the wooden table he had promptly situated himself at when his shift had started.

  “Yeah, I managed just fine, Frank.” Jana answered, sitting across from him behind her cup of coffee, wrapping her hands around the porcelain to warm them. “Just like I always do.”

  “Good for you.” Frank took a bite of a sandwich that Jana was pretty sure belonged to someone on day shift before he tossed it back into the plastic container next to his magazine on the table. Crumbs tumbled down the front of his shirt and Jana resisted the urge to roll her eyes again.

  “They were louder than usual.” She commented instead. “More agitated.”

  “Who cares? Maybe there’s a football game on in there or something.” Frank dismissed.

  “Yeah.” Jana nodded, taking a sip of warm coffee. “Can’t wait for this inspection to be over with.”

  “Why? You eager to get home?” Frank finally looked up at Jana, leering. Jana felt her cheeks flush and she groaned loudly, rolling her eyes.