Fate Walks

by Brea Viragh

  Adult Astix looked on in horror, well aware of what happened next. She wanted to cry out and warn her younger self. To prepare her for the future. Stuck as she was, she could only watch. And remember.

  Teen Astix dove into her Awakening and the magic came swift and easy. A purple halo surrounded her as the final key turned in the lock of her subconscious and unleashed all of her untapped potential.

  Her parents clapped, both heartily pleased at the strength of magic she presented. Until a lump of turquoise appeared in her open palm. A crystal instead of a flower.

  Thorvald stared at the product of her conjuring and his face went white. “Oh, fuck.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Herodotos placed the call immediately, the Claddium office on speed dial. “Sir, we’ve got her.”

  It didn’t take long for the brass to react to the news. A black limousine pulled around the circle drive before coming to a halt by the front stoop. The driver jumped from behind the wheel to rush around and open the passenger side door, sweat gleaming on his brow.

  Orestes unfolded his imposing frame and strode out of the car, with heels digging into the gravel. Time was rewound for him, chasing away the dusky white and silver strands dotting his hair in present reality. Nothing remained but a gold halo chopped close to the hairline. Scowl marks from years of lip pursing filled out and crow’s feet disappeared as the years erased. Here was a man in his prime and the best of life ahead of him.

  He only knocked once.

  If Astix were so inclined, she would have spent extensive time considering the fact that Orestes was so prominent in these memories. What was the head of the Earth Elementals doing with a kidnapper? One who practiced the dark arts?

  She saw it, stored it, and continued to watch, horrified.

  It was one thing to have gone through the painful experience the first time. To know she had done her best, done what her parents and the rest of her community told her she was supposed to do, and still she failed. Not only failed, but abysmally so, in a way that changed her life forever.

  Watching it all again… It went beyond suck.

  In the memory, Thorvald answered the door, considered his guest, and gave a curt nod. “Voltaire. What a pleasant and unexpected surprise.” Strain stooped his figure and stress made him appear older. He had a white-knuckled grip on the knob and kept the door partly closed, his fingers threatening to sink into the metal. “You’re a little late for the party, I must say. The guests have already left. What can I do for you?”

  “Mr. Cavaldi, there are ears everywhere. Think carefully about what you say and how we play this. Rumors have reached me.” Orestes sounded the same. His overly sweet voice held no cordiality. “Terrible, startling rumors about your family.”

  Thorvald remained firm. He shook his head. “I can’t for the life of me think what about.”

  Astix admired her father for the first time in a long time. All those childhood fantasies of Thorvald as a white knight had gone by the wayside long ago. Now, seeing him keep firm in front of Orestes, a rekindling of affection began.

  Orestes’s gaze grew bitter. “Don’t toy with me. I know today is your daughter’s Awakening.”

  “You’re mistaken. Aisanna has already established her magic, and Karsia is not yet twelve years old. Today was a birthday party for my son, Zenon.”

  “I’m not speaking of them,” Orestes snapped, his crooning tone shifting to icy command. “Do you think I’m stupid? That would be ill-advised. I know about your middle child, your daughter Astix.” He puffed his chest out, squaring his shoulders. “Think about how you wish this to proceed before you speak again. There is nothing you can hide from me that I don’t already know.”

  The answer came slowly. “Today is her Awakening, yes.”

  Orestes was a powerful man in their world, and had already established his reputation. The community at large knew what happened to those who crossed him. “And is it true she manifested your power?” he asked. “Can she call up gems and minerals?”

  Thorvald didn’t answer right away. He kept his unwavering gaze trained ahead.

  It was all the verification Orestes needed. “How interesting. Most interesting indeed. I’ve never heard of a case where a woman demonstrates the magic of a man.”

  “She’s only fifteen,” Thorvald pleaded. “She made a mistake. I’m sure with time she’ll come to call on plants and living things. The party took too much out of her.”

  Orestes sighed. “No, I think not, Thorvald. I don’t believe that’s the case. I believe there are dark forces stirring here, coalescing in your daughter. There have already been rumors of a Harbinger witch being born to this generation.”

  “Dark forces?” Thorvald sputtered. “Harbinger witch? It’s nonsense! My daughter is as sweet and innocent as a summer rose. There is not an evil bone in her body.”

  “Not yet, perhaps. But this is an atrocity of magic. An outrage to the community.” Orestes pressed a hand to his chest. “Do I personally think the girl is evil? I don’t know, I’ve never met her. However, if the witches on the council hear of this scandal, they’d be up in arms, which is something I simply can’t allow.”

  “So you are saying that because my daughter is special, unable to fit inside a mold, she’s evil?”

  Orestes held his palms out. “You said the words, not me.”

  “This is insane.” Thorvald bit his lip and turned, blinking rapidly. “I won’t give you my daughter.”

  “What did you think would happen? Do you expect us to upset the balance for one child? The good of the many outweigh the good of the few, Mr. Cavaldi.”

  “What…what would you have me do?”

  “You will cast her out.”

  “No,” Thorvald said, adamant. “I refuse. With all due respect, she’s my child. A child’s place is with her family.”

  Orestes did not back down. “You will cast her out as an abomination. I promise you the girl will come to no harm, but this I demand. Before the situation gets worse.”

  “She is fifteen years old! She’s still a young girl. The world is a cruel place for women like her. There has never before been a female with paternal magic. You must see that she needs to be at home!” A hint of pleading came over him although he resisted reaching out. “Let me take her away. Her mother and I, we have places we can go where no one will hear from us again. We can pack up the whole brood and be out of your hair within the day, as long as you leave Astix alone.”

  Orestes remained stoic, unmoved. “I’ve made myself clear. She must go. I’d hate to have to resort to measures that are more drastic. I’m not sure the rest of your pretty young girls would blossom in the Vault.” He caught the threatening tilt of Thorvald’s posture in the slight shift of his shoulders, the clenching of his fists and slight snarl twisting his mouth. “I would warn you once more that it does no good to cross me.” Orestes need not move a muscle to make his own stand clear. “The girl goes, immediately. Cast her out, Thorvald. Cast her out this instant.”

  And there, in the depths of Herodotos’s memory, were words belonging to someone else. Feminine tones meant for him alone, snakelike tendrils wrapping around the man’s senses and the scent of decaying flesh twisting inside his nostrils. Astix recognized the smell from her house. A dead mouse, Leo had insisted. Leo was wrong.

  She’s mine.

  Astix had seen enough. Herodotos had given her the instant her father bowed down to the will of the Claddium. Wanting her to see how she’d been played. Well, too bad the memory had the opposite effect.

  She no longer saw her parents as cold and cruel. Her perception of the situation altered and a fiery light grew inside of her. She’d been wanted. She’d been loved.

  At last, she rallied enough force to eject Herodotos out of her mind. With an inaudible cry, she pushed back, freeing herself from his influence. They both returned to their respective bodies with a jolt. Astix drew air into her lungs; the pain of her battered earthly form assaulted her instantly.
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br />   Herodotos stumbled, his face pale from the effort it took to maintain their mental bond. The soles of his shoes skidded against the smooth concrete surface.

  He was mad. Insane. Unbalanced. And possessed. Astix saw it in the gleam in his eyes and the flush rising like a rash over his cheeks. Whatever voice spoke to him, the one she’d caught hints of in those multiple memories, pushed him from the boundaries of sanity into something deeper.

  Tainted magic. Rogue magic. The kind of witch who’d been affected by the thinning veil.

  “You convinced my parents to give me up,” she raged at the unseen entity. “You were there the whole time, watching me. You called Orestes and brought him into my life. You told them to send me away. My father fought for me!”

  “Don’t let the show fool you. They needed little convincing.” Herodotos gathered himself together, smoothing back his bleached hair until all pieces lay uniform. “You pulled out before the scene played through, my dear. There was much more to see.”

  “I know you and Orestes have been cooking up something bad, long before the eclipse.”

  “You poor thing. You’ve been so alone, you jump at a chance for human interaction. Snap to attention the instant your mother whistles. You’ve lost your pride, Miss Cavaldi, your spine and heart. This makes my job much easier. Your parents will die. Your sisters will die. And you will be left behind knowing you’ve botched it.”

  All those years of isolation and she’d played right into their hands. Let herself be molded and shaped in the way they wanted. For what? She wanted badly to let darkness take her then. To let it consume whatever shattered pieces she had left. To devour the last of her humanity and erase her pain.

  Erase everything that had happened until this point.

  It would be better to give up. To walk away from her life. She would never have to look back.

  “You did this to yourself,” Herodotos continued smugly. “I was the one tasked with bringing you to heel, and while my intervention was hardly necessary until now, I think we’ve both done a good job.” He knelt in front of her until their eyes were level. “I’ve given you enough so you have a vague idea of what I want from you. What we want from you.”

  As she had with Leo, Astix worked up a good amount of spit and let it fly through pursed lips. She had a brief moment of satisfaction when the wad landed right on his face.

  “You can take that and shove it up your ass,” she replied. “I’m not a pawn, and I refuse to be played anymore.”

  Herodotos took his time removing a cloth from the back pocket of his jeans. He wiped the spittle from his cheek and let the cloth fall, soiled, to the floor. “I beg to differ,” he said dryly. “You are nothing but a pawn, as you have been all your life.”

  “Why me?” The question ate at her like a splinter in flesh. She’d stumbled onto something which had been in motion for far longer than she’d had her magic. “You said my sisters would do just as well.” Her eyes darted across his face, the foreignness of his features. “Why go to the trouble of separating me from my family?”

  “Your whole family is special, having blood that dates back for centuries. To the first whispers of magic from across the veil and the first humans with the genetics to harness the power. You in particular shine bright among them.”

  “My brother is the same.”

  “Your brother was a way to keep the Claddium busy and off my back while I do my work. They could only take me so far.” Herodotos stood. “You are a product of eons, Miss Cavaldi. The mutated offspring from one of the healthiest and longest ancestries in magical history. You never once took the time to see why it was that you came to wield gem calling?”

  “It was a mistake,” she insisted.

  “Not a mistake. Pre-destined. I’m sure you understand, have understood since the day you manifested the wrong magic.”

  “I was born this way.”

  “There’s so much more to you than you think. So much more to your line.” He turned from her, speaking to the room, voice echoing eerily. “She’s perfect.”

  “I told you to leave my sisters alone,” Astix said, chin coming up.

  “I wasn’t speaking to you,” Herodotos barked. “It’s time.”

  “Hey, asshole—”

  Her head snapped back when he hit her again, using his fist to inflict as much anguish as possible. A crack of flesh against flesh. There was a moment of nothing but shock and then the pain set in. Dazed, Astix let her head loll back, the whole side of her face pounding in agony. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped several startling degrees in an unnatural decline.

  “She’s coming, and I won’t have you acting like a beast in front of her.”

  “Who? Who’s coming?” Astix said slowly, her jaw aching from the effort. Her breath rose in a cloud, her muscles contracted, hairs standing on end.

  His skin began to bubble. Shapes moved beneath the membrane like snakes tumbling over one another. His smile melted and he shuddered, jerking his head to the side while he gritted his teeth in pain. With a cry, Herodotos fell forward, and a wave of wickedness rose from his body in inky shades of ebony.

  It took less than half a second for his control over her sisters to break. Across the room, Aisanna fought through layers of unconsciousness, jolted awake by the sudden cold. The weight on her mind lifted.

  “What’s happening?” she asked. “Where am I?”

  An agonized voice shushed her.

  Aisanna blinked and tried to clear the fog from her vision. “Astix?”

  “Hush, girl. Hush before her power.”

  Aisanna struggled to move her arms, only then noting the harsh synthetic material binding her. “What’s going on, Astix?” She wiggled in her chair and found her limbs uncooperative. Panic set in with a vengeance. Karsia woke then, and Astix could only watch in horror as the shadow coalesced into a shape vaguely resembling human.

  Awareness of it skittered over her skin like the carapace-clad legs of a thousand insects. Her body jerked reflexively away from the energy, though there was nowhere to run. No way to escape.

  Fingers of darkness tasted her skin and knew her thoughts. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she heard laughter. Laughter of the damned.

  Herodotos stood back, reeling, exhausted, and watched the display. His skin practically glowed under the incandescent lights of the room. He raised his arms overhead. “Yes. Can’t you feel it?”

  Aisanna’s teeth chattered. “I can’t see anything. What’s happening?”

  Astix lost her ability to speak. She stared on, paralyzed, as the human-shaped shadow approached her. She tried to scream but couldn’t draw in the air.

  Words came to mind intuitively and echoed in her skull. Her mother’s poem.

  Ancient foes in time forgotten…

  The thing in front of her felt primeval. Timeless. The depths of its being stretched before her, interminable. Evil. What was this thing Herodotos had sheltered inside of him? How long had it been there?

  Yes…

  The sound was as insubstantial as the form it took. Power was there, but it felt transparent. As if it was waiting for something.

  Astix tried to look away but it stopped her and kept her gaze ahead. Intangible hands moved her body at will and pressed her into the seat, forcing her to look forward.

  The Cavaldi sisters…yet not all are present.

  Each word dug into her consciousness with the sharpness of a dozen knives. Not knowing what to call the thing, Astix decided on Darkness. It seemed vastly more appropriate than anything else. While it did not help her overcome the fear, having a name to go with the faceless horror was a small comfort.

  Until Darkness turned to her.

  I’ve been waiting for you, Astix.

  The way it said her name, the uncomfortable familiarity, brought her to the brink of unconsciousness. How much better would it have been to black out and forget the repugnance? To be present but not?

  Her sisters were bound as tightly as she. Awa
ke and scared, without the ability to free themselves or call up their magic. No, she would be strong. She needed to be strong.

  “It’s nice to know one of us has patience, at least.” Astix was surprised when her voice held steady, with more boldness then she actually felt. “I, on the other hand, have not been waiting for you because I have no idea what the hell you are.”

  A brief titter echoed and caused the rafters of the room to quiver. Dust fell in puffs of cloud and Astix coughed.

  You, my young one, would be surprised at the measure of my patience. I have been waiting for you always.

  “Sounds like a long damn time.”

  “How dare you speak to her with such disrespect,” Herodotos rebuked. “You should be ashamed.” He retreated to the corner of the room where he could better survey the goings-on, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms. “You have no idea of her authority.”

  Silence! Darkness commanded and Herodotos obeyed. I’ve been watching you, Astix, since before your birth. Before the births of your mother and father, their mothers and fathers, since time immemorial. I felt the stirring of fate then. And my patience has been rewarded.

  Darkness grew until it overshadowed everything. There was no inflection in the words, no sense of modulation. Each syllable lasted an eternity yet was as brief as the expiration of a star.

  “I’ve never had the opportunity to talk to an insane ghost, but I guess there’s a first time for everything,” Astix quipped.

  There was a difference between yielding magic and somehow becoming the apple of someone’s demented eye. Not for the first time she wished to be someone else and walk away from the whims of fate. Destiny seemed to have it in for her, especially within the last twenty-four hours. Apparently everyone had it in for her.

  “Why me?” she asked again. “I’m not important.”

  You are more important than you know. So full of potential. If only you can be persuaded in the right direction. A ship without wind is stuck, dead in the water. I offer you a gale of epic proportions.

  “Never been fond of wind, I’ll be honest with you. Even though I do live in the Windy City.”