by Skye, Relina
“Cora Gertrude King, I’m trying to concentrate. Why don’t you go take a shower? You smell like a cemetery.” She flipped the page in her book. “To answer your question, no, they are not here. Children do not live with their mothers in the Silver Isles Coven. They live in a nursery. Innovative, really. Saves me from having to change diapers all the time. Now, shoo… go on.”
My mouth hung open for a few seconds before I noticed Kacie motioning with her head for me to obey her.
Well, then. Who knew being the High Priestess was such a respect earning position? Apparently, my mother wasn’t impressed with my status and still considered me beneath her.
With my energy levels diminishing by the minute, I decided to do as I was told and hit the shower. But first, I had to figure out which bedroom was mine.
Unless I asked Kacie for help, there was only one way to know. The first room was a spacious office that held two desks. Across the hall, I found a bedroom with a suitcase parked next to the full-sized bed and a door that led to what looked like a bathroom. I guessed it was the guest bedroom.
The last two bedrooms both had en-suites, but one was bigger than the other, making it the master. As the High Priestess, I assumed that one was mine.
Behind me, the cat followed my footsteps. Who knows? Maybe he was my familiar and I just didn’t realize it? Did I even have a familiar? There was no trace of a litter box anywhere, and with a nose like mine, I would have smelled it the moment I entered the apartment.
Closing the door, I dumped the backpack on the floor and pulled my jacket off to hang on the back of the chair in front of a vanity. Everything was neatly in its place. Brushes and combs were carefully lined up in the drawer. Makeup and styling products were tidily tucked away. There were very few personal touches to the room; and it revealed very little character. Maybe that wasn't important to me? I didn’t know. My only personal possessions outside of what I used to groom and clothe myself were an e-reader that sat on top of a photo album on the nightstand. What little color there was throughout the space came in the form of several paintings that decorated the walls. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were originals. I liked them; they made me smile.
But overall, the room looked like it was barely lived in. Yes, the colors were pretty, and the bed looked warm and cozy. However, it also made me feel sad. Like I was missing this huge chunk of my life and that I existed in a and that the setting felt temporary.
When I entered the walk-in, I had to decide what to wear. What does the High Priestess of a coven wear when she’s not performing a ceremony? I wasn’t sure. Some clothing looked too fancy, and others looked too casual.
Wondering what Kacie would think, my brain switched on its high-powered hearing to tune her in.
“… do that.”
“Of course, you could. You practically run the coven anyway. Use this as an opportunity to make a power play before anyone else does.”
“No, Mom, what I mean is, I couldn’t challenge Cora for the position of High Priestess because I was chosen to become a teacher, not a priestess. Besides, we really shouldn’t be discussing this. She might be listening.”
My mother snorted. “You don’t have to be a priestess to become High Priestess. As long as your bloodlines are good, which they are—I made sure of that, and you’re magically gifted, which you are—your empathic abilities give you an advantage over your peers; you can become the High Priestess. And you’d make a better one than Cora! I should know, I watched that girl grow up. She’s been nothing but an odd duck. Shouldn’t have happened that way,” she grumbled. “Her father was the grandson of a demigod! Sperm donors like that are hard to come by.”
“You actually know the identity of her father?”
“Of course, I do. I did my homework that first Beltane. My friends and I spied on all the men who showed up from the other covens. We learned which ones to avoid and which to approach. Besides, his tattoos gave him away. You could see them on his neck.”
“What about my father? Who is he?”
“The former High Priest of the Silver Hills Coven. So, you see, Kacie, you are more qualified to become High Priestess than Cora.”
I turned off the advanced hearing. Now, I understood why I didn’t Skype my mother. Disappointment bubbled in my chest like a lava lamp. As sincere as Kacie seemed to be, I couldn’t help feeling some resentment. Did she think she had to help me because of who I am? Or because of our relationship? Or possibly because of both? I wasn’t sure.
Undressing, I tossed my clothing into the hamper. Giving the cat one last head rub, I left him in the room while I went to shower.
Beads of scalding water rained on my head. It really is amazing how thoughts hit you in the shower. Why was I on that ferry? Where was I coming from? If I knew that, then I could figure out why I went up there without anyone else. Did I tell Kacie where I was going? I wasn't sure. The way she spoke earlier made me wonder if I suddenly left with no explanation.
Maybe I didn’t completely trust her? Did I trust anyone? Huh… with mommy issues like mine, it’s no wonder I became a loner.
Rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I went back to considering why I was on that ferry. I must have been doing something before I bashed my head on the pole. The sweatshirt. Where did I get that sweatshirt? It didn’t match anything else in my closet. All I found were yoga pants and long-sleeved shirts, but no sweats.
Once I finished drying off and dressing, I went back to my room, expecting the door to still be closed, but it wasn’t. Someone must have let the cat out. Or maybe the cat let himself out? A part of me believed that some familiars were just as powerful as the witches and wizards they chose to pair with.
Opening my sense of hearing to find out what my mother and sister were up to, I was met by silence. I didn’t even hear the bubbling of the cauldron. But then the click-clack of someone typing drew my attention. The light thud of a heartbeat told me that at least one other person was on my floor, and that they weren’t in the kitchen.
Standing in the office door, I found a woman with henna-red hair, clicking her fingers on the keyboard at the smaller desk.
“Good morning,” I said. “Do you know where my mother and sister went?”
“Good morning right back at you. Now, child, don’t linger in the door. How many times have I told you that’s bad luck?” She didn’t even look up.
“Right… can I get you anything?” Okay, this must be normal. I hoped it was normal. What if it weren't normal?
“I’m good. They’re down in the library and said for you not to worry. They’re taking care of everything. Your mother does make the best tea, though. She brewed me a whole pot. I'll take a refill. Now, go grab your breakfast and pull up a chair. Kacie said you wanted help learning how to set up a Witch-Book account.” I instantly realized she must be Darla Jane. "About time, too," she muttered under her breath. Ignoring her catty remark, I decided the best course of action would be to do just as I was told. Besides, she didn't seem the least bit fazed about giving me orders.
I refilled her teacup before addressing my now massive appetite. It wasn't until I smelled the bacon that my stomach protested its pain by crowing under my ribs. Picking at some pieces of the food, I made my way back to the office. I decided I needed to take two trips just so I didn't have to get up again later. Once I had my breakfast and was seated next to Darla, I said, “Thanks for coming up so quickly.”
“My High Priestess needs me for something, I come,” she noted without even looking at me. She was very busy taking an online quiz that claimed it could determine the color of her aura.
“I appreciate that.” I paused, as I waited for her to read through her results. “I just need a basic tutorial of how it works.”
“Okey-dokey.” She spent the next ten minutes teaching me how to create a profile and add coven members.
“What about members from other covens?" I held my hand in front of my mouth as I finally remembered my manners. "You know, like my m
other.”
“You need to request access to their coven’s member list.”
“What about just viewing a profile of someone whom you already know?”
“That depends on the individual’s privacy settings.” Darla went over several more things while I finished eating my breakfast. When she was done, she left me to make up my own profile and promised to come back up and help if she were needed.
Once she left the room, I typed in the Swift surname. Four profiles popped up. “James Swift, Walter Swift, Liam Swift, and Graham Swift.” Closing my eyes, I pictured Officer Swift in my mind. Immediately, I recognized Graham as the officer who tried to steal my powers. James was the one who told everyone on the train that I was an ecological terrorist. That meant the other two officers had to be Liam and Walter.
A few more clicks of my mouse brought me to the home page of the Silver Shore Coven. Members participating in various festivities and other events scrolled by on the homepage slideshow scene. To me, it looked like a normal website.
The wave symbol, the same one I saw on the Swift brothers’ bodies during my first Beltane, was easy enough to identify. When I looked at their territory specs, I learned there was a university attached to their home base city. A direct ferry ride connected the two.
Okay, so why did I go to the university? Clicking on the search engine, I typed in the name of the school. Scrolling through their news feed, I came across an odd article about a woman who was found at a dig site deep underground. Her description matched mine, including the leather jacket.
Questions. Nothing but more questions without answers. Searching the desk, I found a piece of scrap paper and started to jot down what I knew and what I didn’t know.
Okay, so what do I know? One: my name is Cora King and I’m the High Priestess of my coven. Two: my coven’s territory is in New York. Three: members of the Silver Shore Coven attacked us during my first Beltane. Four: Graham Swift has stolen other witches’ powers and intended to steal mine with his friend, Doctor Putnam and nurse, Candace.
I jotted down several more observations about my sister, mother, and what went on from day to day in my household.
Next were my questions.
One: why did I visit an archaeological dig site without telling anyone? Two: was my trip into Silver Shore territory successful? Three: what happened to my memory? Four: when will I get my memory back? Five: whom can I trust? Six: could Graham identify me? Seven: did I inadvertently put my coven in danger?
Damn, this wasn’t good. Crossing the room, I opened several filing cabinets until I found a thick folder marked Security. I spent several hours going over everything from the physical aspects of our security—i.e., the new fence with security cameras, the spell used to surround and protect our property, and the individuals who were in charge of patrolling the grounds. The previous High Priestess instituted Watchman training.
My name was listed in the records as one of the witches chosen to participate full-time, whereas the rest of the professions only required weekly training sessions.
At least, if we were caught off guard again, there wouldn’t be as many people panicking. According to the feedback provided by those who survived the Beltane attack, many felt vulnerable and unable to protect themselves by using their inner wells of magic. Groups like the herbalists were left helpless without their plants. Potion makers panicked because they were literally naked during the attack, and had none of their potions on them.
Since the attack, the charm witches and wizards began making special pieces of jewelry for each witch and wizard to carry at all times. They carried either a potion or stones for them to use.
Touching my belly piercing, I silently thanked whoever thought up that idea. Using the locator stone diminished the amount of innate magic I would have needed to cast that spell on its own. At the same time, it sent a distress signal to the witch or wizard’s closest ally.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that several hours had passed since I last ate. It was strange; I still hadn’t heard my mother and sister returning.
Curious about their whereabouts, I opened my sense of hearing to tune into Kacie’s voice.
“…don’t like it. It calls for her to be in a coma-like state for nearly two weeks. Anything could happen during that time.”
“Unless you know of any other spell to lift magically-induced amnesia, this is her best bet.”
“But two weeks? Most spells take only minutes or hours to cast!”
“This is not just any old spell, my dear, this is an invocation. Your sister will need to not only rely on her own magic reserves, but those of the elements, charms, and potions. Only one of the triplicate goddesses can grant the return of her memories.”
“I thought they were all triplicate goddesses?”
“Gah! Technicalities. We’ll look a little bit longer. If we can’t find anything else, then I suggest we tell her to use this.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Two weeks? Just like Kacie said, a lot could happen during that time.
Not wanting to leave anything up to chance, I decided to approach one of the trade leaders for aid in beefing up my security.
Once I found his name, office, and suite number on the map, I headed down to his floor via the stairs.
Knocking on his door, I wondered if I should be dressed differently, but concluded it didn’t really matter because this wasn't an official inspection.
I didn’t have to wait long. A curvy, little redhead with lavender-colored eyes opened the door.
“High Priestess!” Her head gave a slight bow. “We were not expecting you.”
“You’re right, you weren’t. Am I interrupting anything?”
“No!” she exclaimed before calming down. “No, you weren’t. I was just assisting Master Mead with grading his papers.”
“How kind of you to volunteer. I’m sure you’ll come away from this experience with some new insights about your craft?” I gave the young woman a kind smile. Obviously, she was nervous about something. I only needed to kick up my hearing a notch to confirm her heart was racing, and seeing how her cheeks were blushing, I instantly knew she was obviously hiding something. What? I really didn’t care to know.
“Definitely.” She nodded a bit too enthusiastically.
“Good. Mind if I talk to Master Mead in private?”
“Oh! Of course not.” She tipped her head down once more. Without hesitation, she quickly moved past me.
I rolled my eyes behind her head before entering the office. All of the witches and wizards with the title “master of” or “mistress of” had their living spaces and offices on this floor of the main building. Nameplates for each individual were proudly written on their office doors. Access for their quarters could be gained through both the hall and their offices. That way, if they worked late at night, they could return to their personal suites without having to travel across the grounds from the classrooms.
“Master Mead?” I called, finding his office space empty, save for a stack of papers on top of his desk, and a zoo of stuffed creatures residing on various shelves along the wall. The door to his personal quarters was slightly open. A harmonious melody of jazz music lightly floated in the air and grew louder as I reached the second door.
Knocking a bit louder this time on the door that led to his living room, I called out, "Master Mead? Are you in here?"
A toilet flushed, and a door in the adjacent hallway opened. At first, all I could do was drop my jaw about an inch, but then came a spark of anger. My magic pumped into my fingertips, waiting for the first chance to blast him into the wall. “So, which am I? Really dumb or an asshole?”
Disheveled, his inky-black hair hung in multiple directions, compounded by his facial stubble and pajama bottoms. His mouth moved up and down without saying anything.
“Well, Ian? Nice of you to leave me hurt and alone on that ferry in Silver Shore territory.”
“I can explain. Just please don’t kill me.” Hi
s brown eyes darted from my face down to the electricity building up in my hands.
Turning, I moved into the office. If I didn’t leave immediately, I knew I might do something I would regret later.
“Wait!”
A spot of black darted just below my line of vision and came to a stop in front of the door leading into the hall. Sitting there, staring up at me, was the cat I was cuddling earlier that morning. His form blurred as he grew to his full six feet before his human features emerged.
“Please, Cora…” His hand reached out, but soon dropped.
Taking a few calming breaths, I willed my magic to pull back into my core. “Go ahead,” I said as I reentered his living space. Taking a seat on his couch, I waved my hand for him to join me. “I’m all ears.”
Rushing from the hall to the couch, he sat next to me, leaving my knees only about an inch of room without touching his.
“First of all, you left without telling anyone where you were going. By the time we checked the security tapes, you were already missing for over nine hours. That wasn’t like you. You’re always interacting with someone. If it isn’t the kids, then it’s the Elders, or your Watchmen. Kacie was worried about you. She told me your car was at the train station and asked me to fly up and down the line until I caught your scent. It took me all night, but by the time I finally caught your scent, I was exhausted. I saw you at the university and didn’t know what to think. Then when you hit your head, I thought it was just an act. I went along with it for that Bill Gomez guy. But you kept it up even after he left.” Taking my hand in his, he gave me the cutest set of puppy dog eyes. “I’m really sorry, Cora. I didn’t know what to think. Silver Shore is filled with assholes and sadistic bastards.”
“You thought that I betrayed our coven?”
He nodded slowly.
“Wow. Is that why you left me alone?"
Running his fingers through his hair, he looked at the coffee table as if it were telling him what to say. “So…um why were you there?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I saw something on the university’s news feed about an injured woman fitting my description who was trespassing at an archaeological dig site. My gut tells me that was my reason for being there. Whatever was originally there was important and I had to get it before the humans did or, worse, the Silver Shore Fucktards found it.”