The Council, A Witch's Memory

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The Council, A Witch's Memory Page 2

by J. C. Isabella


  “Ah, Henry, I’m glad you haven’t left yet.” My father poured me a cup of coffee. “How does it feel to be an official Council member now?”

  “Good,” I said, taking the mug and sitting across from him. Mum sat beside him and studied the vase of wilted flowers in the center of the table. She touched them. Their leaves and petals became vibrant and new, as if they just had been picked.

  “I want you to know, how proud I am,” my father smiled. “Having this responsibility isn’t easy. If you have any questions or need help, your mother and I will always be here for you.”

  I smiled, “Thanks. I was nervous, but I think for now, I’m doing okay.”

  Mum beamed, “Better than okay, Darling.”

  “Henry,” Father said, “there is something we need to tell you.”

  “About Venna.” I nodded, setting my coffee down after sipping it. “What it is?”

  “There are things about her we’ve kept secret from you.”

  “I know, and I don’t like it. It feels wrong not telling her she is a witch.” I was lying through omission, something I feared Venna would not forgive. Eight years of secrets stretched between us.

  “The time is coming for her to take her place in our world. But it must not happen before tomorrow morning.” Mum said.

  “Why not?” It was all very strange. I understood they wanted her to discover her powers naturally. But now, I was wondering if they told me the bit about self-discovering her powers to keep me quiet. “Did you lie to me too?”

  Mum folded a newspaper beside her and set it on the table atop another. There had to be at least twenty scattered between them from major cities around the world. “Venna’s birthday is only four days away.”

  “So?” I glanced at my father, who merely looked at my mum.

  “Irena, “Father said, rubbing his temples. “Tell him.”

  “I wiped Venna’s memory,” she blurted. “She’s going to start having flashbacks.”

  I shot out of my chair. “How could you do that to her?”

  “Eight years ago I cast a memory charm on Venna. It’s only temporary, magical amnesia. The spell will start wearing off soon. Pieces of Venna's past are going to return. By midnight on her eighteenth birthday she will remember everything.”

  I dropped back into my chair, hands shaking. This was the most dangerous form of memory charm. Whatever happened to the person they would relive. They would remember and feel it as if they were there again. “I have to wait for Venna to remember her past.”

  “Uh, yes.” She smiled reassuringly. “But you can tell her it is the past she is remembering. She was too young to be of any help, and I was afraid she would forget the information. Now though, she’ll remember clearly when her memories return.”

  “What is it, what does she know?” I was swimming in shock, and something close to rage. I could see how my mum thought the memory charm was her best bet. But putting Venna in jeopardy didn’t seem worth it to me.

  “We won’t know until she remembers. Whatever happened to Venna that fateful day when her mother died, she will experience again. But I can tell you that she will be alright.”

  I breathed a sigh of immense relief. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Her mother is dead?”

  “She was killed.” My father’s face turned bleak, his eyes glowing bright green. “Venna witnessed an incident connected with a very powerful and evil warlock. He was the leader of the Resistance, and the one she had been hidden from.”

  Mum gasped, “James, you cannot tell him that!”

  It took little effort to figure out that the evil warlock, Craven, was somehow involved in all of this. Or had been involved. He may not be alive, but if he was, and if Venna knew something about him, she would be in danger.

  This was all very disturbing.

  Not only were my parents worried about a war, they were concerned Venna might find herself at the center of it. “Why such an elaborate memory charm?”

  “The girl was traumatized. She needed rest, and more importantly, to be a child. Yes, we could have gotten some of the information out of her, but I wasn’t thinking like a queen. I was thinking like a mother.” Mum looked stricken, as if she didn’t know what else to say. “I-I had my reasons. I wanted to protect her.”

  “I understand,” though I didn’t like it.

  “Have patience,” she pleaded.

  No problem. I’d be the poster boy for patience.

  “Henry,” Father said. “You must not tell Venna anything. Not until tomorrow morning.”

  “Why?”

  He leaned toward me. “Two things must happen before she can know. If they do not, Venna won’t survive.”

  I felt my blood run cold. “She’ll die?”

  Mum wiped at her eyes, blinking back tears. “It is imperative. The psychics have seen her fate. Events meant to happen later, will be set into motion two days too early. We will not get to her in time.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Oh, God.”

  Father scooted his chair around the table next to me. He rested his hands on my shoulders and met my eyes. “We trust you. We know you will not risk Venna’s life just to tell her.”

  I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him.

  Mum stood, “I’ll be right back.” She was gone in a flash of yellow light.

  “I know this must be hard for you,” my father said

  “For me?” my voice cracked. “What about her? Everything Venna knows is a lie. I’m a lie! She trusts me, and I’m going to rip the rug out from under her. And if I tell her too soon, she’ll die.”

  “No, she won’t.” He lowered his voice. “Remember. Two things. Two obviously magical events will happen. She will notice them as you notice them. After the second, you are free to explain.”

  “I can do that.”

  “You will be tempted after the first.”

  “No, I won’t.” Venna was too important to risk.

  “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

  I stared at nothing, feeling numb. “What else do you know?”

  “About?”

  I licked my lips, my throat feeling dry. “If I do everything you tell me, what will happen?”

  He smiled. “Ah, I see.’

  The psychics were very cryptic, and they never told anyone the exact outcome. Normally they gave a few choices, and a vague glimpse into the future.

  “Everything will be as it should,” he said. “Their words, not mine.”

  In another flash of yellow light my mother reappeared carrying a box.

  “I wanted to give you this, just in case you needed it.” She lifted the lid and set it on the table in front of me.

  “That’s subtle.” I didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in my voice, staring at the necklace. It was white gold, the chain carrying a pendant with a glittering sapphire. When I glanced up, my mother was fiddling with a similar necklace around her neck, though hers had an emerald pendant. The necklace was my father’s claim over her, the symbol telling all whom she belonged to. We didn’t get married like the humans. It was a little more complicated than that, and permanent. “Are you hinting at something?”

  She nodded. “Maybe…every prince needs a princess.”

  I snapped the lid shut and pocketed it. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be using this anytime soon.”

  She huffed. “You know this, Henry. It is something you cannot escape.”

  “I’ll remember that.” I hugged them and stepped back to phase. I closed my eyes and pictured my bedroom. When I opened them I was standing in front of my closet.

  I shed my formal clothes, sent the pieces flying to their rightful places. I pulled on jeans, sneakers, and a worn button up shirt. It was pretty hot out, so I pushed the sleeves to my elbows and let the collar hang open.

  I wanted to know if Venna felt the same inexplicable pull I did whenever I got within five feet of her, like gravity. I got sucked in to the atmosphere that was Venn
a, and the sooner I had her by my side, the better I’d feel. I couldn’t comprehend not having her in my life. And I wouldn’t risk telling her who she was, even if I had to leave her until tomorrow morning.

  But that didn’t mean Venna was my destiny, only that I cared for her. Anyone who spent so much time being friends with her would care. So I put away the necklace for now.

  It was inevitable. I couldn’t escape this. My soul would choose a witch for me, sometime before I turned nineteen. Our souls bound just before we reached our most powerful point in life. It would all slow down after that. On my nineteenth birthday I would stop aging like the humans, as would my mate.

  The male was the deciding factor. Once my body froze into a state as close to immortal as any being would get, the female my soul chose would freeze as well. We would then grow older slowly, like my parents. The math wasn’t all that accurate, but I figured we age approximately one year for every sixty that passed.

  I tried not to wish for Venna to be my destiny. Trying to save myself from disappointment. Because what if she wasn’t mine?

  I practically raced out the front door, anxious to see that she was all right. Trying not to think about the possibility of there being someone else for me. Possibly loosing her.

  Patience.

  As I approached the center of the town, nosy citizens of Capeside peered through shop windows and watched me from rocking chairs on the porches of businesses. They knew my car by sight. A ‘67 Ford Mustang Shelby, the only one like it for miles. Jet black inside and out with white racing stripes, completely refurbished.

  The residents of Capeside thought I was dangerous driving this car.

  I smiled.

  I was dangerous without it.

  Chapter 3

  I eyed a parking spot in front of the bookstore where Venna worked part-time. The light changed from green to red. I idled, wondering why the town needed a traffic light when most people walked.

  The passenger side door to my car opened.

  Not in the mood to be bombarded, I swung around to tell the person to get lost.

  “Hey, Henry.”

  I kept unkind words to myself as Venna settled in the passenger’s seat and shut the door. “Hey. I was on my way to get you.”

  Strawberry haired Venna Greer, with eyes like sapphires and skin like snow.

  “The store is a block from your car.” She smiled. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  “No problem.” It was never a problem having the gorgeous redhead beside me, filling my car with her sweet vanilla smell.

  “So, how long have you been in town?”

  “Five glorious minutes,” I turned down one of the many dirt roads leading off Cape Street. “By the way, I loved the brownies you made me.”

  “You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Henry.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  I gripped the steering wheel so tightly I’m surprised it didn’t break off.

  “I thought the rule was a kiss for each year?” Boy, I really pushed my luck.

  “Uh, I’ve never heard of that before. Do you really want eighteen kisses on your cheek?” her face tinged pink.

  “No.” Yes. “Is there anything special you’d like for your birthday?” I’m ten days older than her. She made me brownies and shipped them to North Dakota. Although I wouldn’t be making her anything, I loved buying Venna presents. I even enjoyed it as a kid.

  “The next town over has a new bookstore.”

  “You want me to take you to a bookstore for your birthday?” If she really wanted a book, I would get her a book.

  “I’m just not sure what I want yet.”

  “I am buying you something.” I warned, wondering if her indecisiveness was to throw me off. “You’ve got time to think about it.

  “Okay.” Another sigh, “I’m glad you’re home Henry, it’s not the same when you’re gone.”

  “I don’t like being away,” from you.

  “But it was only two weeks…I was so busy I barely had time to miss you.” She went back to fiddling with the radio.

  At times I saw glimmers in her actions, in the way she would look or touch me that suggested her feelings went deeper. But she was also very good at saying something to contradict those actions, throwing me off even more.

  Like the kiss on the cheek. She kisses me, and then acts like it was nothing.

  I never really feared rejection before, but I’d never felt like this before, either. I prided myself on being able to handle any kind of situation without losing my head. It was what I spent my life learning to do, to prepare me for the day I took my place as king.

  Give me a spunky little redhead named Venna and all those years of training were useless.

  I started out pretending to be her friend, thought I’d have to shield her from something magical. Mum warned me of the possibility. It was my job to keep her from unintentionally exposing our world, or to shield her from humans if she accidently discovered magic in public. I never actually wanted to be her friend or even considered the possibility of liking her. I was just going to do my job and try not to hate it.

  Our friendship snuck up on me. We went everywhere together. We liked the same games and movies. We just clicked.

  But now I felt more than just a bond, a friendship with her. I felt protective of her in a way words could not describe. I no longer cared about her importance to my parents, or the fact that I was required to look out for her. I grew up, realizing she was important to me and nothing else mattered.

  My feelings for Venna were depthless, and sometimes I wondered at how I could care for someone so much.

  And I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that she would have my confession. That is, after, we experienced the two events my father warned me of.

  “What do you want to do this afternoon?” I asked, trying not to think too much about the next twenty-four hours.

  “I’m up for anything.” Her sapphire eyes twinkled playfully. “Whatever were you thinking of doing, Mr. Langley?”

  “I’m thinking we should go for lunch Miss Greer.” I turned down another dirt road, heading for Minnie’s Diner.

  Chapter 4

  Venna

  I watched Henry, wanting to burn the picture of him in my mind forever. He was leaning back, completely at ease. One long, muscular arm stretched out, his wrist wresting on the steering wheel, the other draped behind me on the seat.

  “Do you have any plans tomorrow?” He slowed the car as we drew closer to the diner, kicking up a cloud of dirt and leaves.

  “No. I figured you’d want to hang out.”

  He didn’t say anything and stared at me. The sharp angles of his face gave nothing away. I had no idea what he was thinking. I felt his contemplation though. Saw the hitch of breath in his chest as he hesitated. He felt…nervous.

  Wait, that was weird. I can’t know what he’s feeling.

  My imagination must be on overdrive today.

  “I’m driving down to Mick’s,” he said. “You should come.”

  “The antique car dealer?”

  “We’ll have fun.” There was something in his eyes, a promise. He wanted me to enjoy myself if I went with him. But I always had fun with Henry, no matter what we did. It wasn’t the activity that we were involved in; just being with him was enough.

  “Okay.” I wanted to say something more, only I found myself at a loss for words as the car came to a stop in a parking space behind the diner.

  Minnie’s Diner wasn’t actually a diner. It was a house. The first story was converted into a restaurant and the second was home to Minnie White, a woman in her mid-fifties who was known for heavy blue eye shadow and an even heavier use of butter in her cooking. The food was good, a little greasy sometimes.

  Henry steered me toward the last booth next to an open window. The cushions were bright red vinyl, the tabletop lacquered black. An ancient jukebox sat against the wall playing oldies next to a long counter with red stools. The floor was a checke
red black and white pattern. Minnie had also glued old records to the wall, after painting the room a shiny white. It was pretty cute, and didn’t look like a house anymore. Except the one bathroom in the place included a working bathtub.

  “Do you know what you want?” I asked Henry while perusing the menu.

  “Cheeseburger. You?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Uh, I think I’ll do the burger and skip the cheese.”

  He grinned. “It’s un-American to hate yellow cheese on a hamburger.”

  “Why are you complaining?” I teased. “You’re English.”

  “I am just as much of an American citizen as you, Venna. You’re right though, if anyone at this table was to be un-American, it would be me and my love of fish and chips.”

  Laughter overcame us and the waitress appeared. We ordered, and Henry asked for a chocolate milkshake last minute. The waitress brought it to us and we shared while chatting about school, graduation, anything Henry had missed while he was away with his family.

  I studied my best friend across from me. “It was strange.”

  He knitted his eyebrows. “What was?”

  “Graduation,” I shook my head, holding back a grimace. “After I got my diploma I…I thought I saw you in the back of the auditorium.”

  Two nights ago I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I walked across the stage. I wouldn’t trip like the girl before me did, and I wasn’t going to jump around like an idiot, either. Tripping and overexcitement ran rampant. I felt subdued as I accepted my high school diploma and shook hands with the principle, Mr. Franklin. He smiled and congratulated me. I turned toward the crowd in the packed auditorium and grinned at my fourteen-year-old brother, Zane. He waved, jumping up from his seat in the fifth row, snapping pictures and whistling.

  Just like the others before me, I shifted the tassel on my cap from right to left and started down a short flight of stairs for my seat, sharing silently in the excitement my brother displayed. Though I was wishing Henry could have been in the L section of the line.

  I stopped on the bottom stair to pose for a cheesy picture with the school mascot, a badger. After the camera flashed I hurried past the photographer, ready to disappear into the sea of people.

 

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