Cora (Of Earth or Erda)

by Skye, Relina

  At this hour, the library was closed. Kacie led us to the statue of Thoth, the Egyptian god of the moon, hieroglyphics, and magic, just to name a few of his positions. Touching a spot on his big toe, the statue slid over to the side, revealing a set of steps.

  "After the attack on our coven, several panic rooms were installed for those who could not defend themselves against rival covens. One is located in the classroom building, while others are hidden below the dormitories. We also have one off the dining hall, and the last two are rumored to be somewhere here in the library. Only a small handful of people know about the one you will be using. It's mainly restricted to council members. That way, if one of the regular members of the coven is captured and tortured, they can't reveal the location of our leaders."

  Florescent lights dimly blinked on as we traveled down a set of cement stairs.

  A room about the size of a tennis court appeared before us. Along the back wall was a kitchen area with a large, oval counter surrounded by about a dozen stools. Electronics cluttered the opposite wall, partitioned off by a huge, L-shaped couch. The center of the room was bare, but it looked like the floor had recently been cleaned.

  "It's not much," Kacie shrugged, "but it will do in a pinch. There is a pantry through the door off the kitchen with enough food and water to last twenty people about a month. Sleeping quarters are off the hall, along with a restroom." Setting her box down, she waited until I did the same before giving me a hug. "Good luck."

  "Thank you for everything." My stomach knotted.

  "You'll do fine. But just in case you don't, I asked the Crone to give me permission to stay here for the next two weeks." My mother embarrassed me, as well.

  "What about your boys?" I asked.

  "Oh, don't worry about them. Their father spoils them rotten. They hardly notice that I'm alive." Mother smirked. "Besides, there is a lot of catching up I still need to do with my friends."

  Nodding, I felt at least a little better to know my mother was nearby. Not that I believed she could actually do anything if the spell went wrong, but despite all of her digs, I knew she loved me in her own way and would try to protect me from the rest of the coven if necessary.

  After one last goodbye, my mother and sister ascended the stairs and disappeared from sight. Stone grinding against stone told me the entrance to the panic room was now sealed.

  The air was slightly chilled from being underground, and the room still held the fragrance of burnt sage, sweetgrass, cedar and lavender from the smudging ritual we performed after the room was completed.

  Opening the ancient text with the incantation written in it, I flipped to a bookmarked page. Cursive script listed the instructions for prepping the space. The incantation required a casting circle comprised of elemental magic and magic from other diverse disciplines. Each circle had to be completed before moving on to the next task.

  Etched into the concrete were the directional markers. Three yellow candles were placed on the east marker, representing the element of air. On the northern marker, I placed three green candles, representing earth. Symbolizing water were three blue candles, which were placed on the west marker. Last of all, three red were placed on the south marker, representing the element of fire. Between each of the directional markers, I spaced out a rotation of seven black and white candles, to serve for life and death magic.

  The same time all of the candles did double duty by representing a ring of fire. Air was the next element. Even though air was all around me, it still had to be represented in a physical form. The best we could come up with were small glass stones that were created when lightning struck the sand.

  A ring of earth came next. Mixed with the consecrated soil from the land we lived on were leaves and stems of herbs needed for the spell. Next, came a ring of ice cubes to represent water.

  Using a container of lamb's blood, I used my fingers to draw out a mix of Norse runes, Greek letters, Egyptian hieroglyphics, Sanskrit characters and Asian symbols. Seeds were carefully sprinkled between each character, allowing space between the blood that represented death, and the seeds that represented life.

  Four, large crystals were placed alongside their cardinal direction candles, with seven much smaller ones to stand between. .

  Oil came next, followed by a ring of symbolic relics that represented various gods and goddesses.

  Tiptoeing out of the casting circle, I made my way over to the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes, I took a small vial of liquid silver and began to paint arcane symbols all over my body. Most of the symbols were fairly simple, yet very powerful. The goal of this rite was to help conduct my well of powers and amplify the chanting required to help break the hex and restore my memory.

  At nearly midnight, I finally finished. Most of the more advanced spells that required a casting circle were done outside, under the light of the full moon. Since this one required solitary confinement and took nearly two weeks to complete, I didn't think it mattered if I weren't directly under the moonlight.

  Before I continued, I took the opportunity to fish Ben's potion out of my pocket. A mix of flavors stung my tongue as I swallowed. Feeling a rush of renewed energy, I continued with my preparations.

  Igniting an incense stick, I used its subtle burn to light the candles. At the space between each ring of the circle, I lit a new stick, and slowly walked around the space until I came full circle.

  Once I reached the center of the circle, I laid each incense stick on the ground in an even pattern.

  My heartbeat kicked up a notch. Until this moment, I could have stopped if I wanted to, but once I started to transfer my powers to the crystals, there was no turning back. I could only hope that once the spell was performed, my powers would return to me, but there was no guarantee. For all I knew, the magic that would be used to sustain me would be my own.

  Flipping the page in the book, the writing went from the neat translation of a former archivist, to a foreign language that I did not recognize.

  Dashes, lots of dashes... and no translations. Not knowing what else to do, I shifted my gaze to the Arcane Plane. The words jumped out at me in a series of sounds and images. Sumerian. But even that seemingly ancient language was still young in comparison to the magic behind it.

  Facing the yellow candles, I chanted in the unfamiliar language, through the filters of the Arcane Plane. "Watchers of the East , I am in need. I present to you the essence of wind. From my lungs to yours, my breath vibrates through this space, carrying this song." Pulling from my inner well, the magic bestowed on me by my father upon my birth flowed from my core and into my fingertips. It drained into the crystal, filling it until I was empty.

  Turning toward the blue candles, I continued. “Watchers of the West, I am in need. I present to you the essence of water. From my being to yours, my fluidity flows through this space, carrying my plea.” The water magic I absorbed from coupling with others drained from my inner well. Pooling at my feet, it swiftly streamed into the water crystal until I held no more.

  Pivoting to the green candles, my anxiety almost suffocated me, but I pressed on. “Watchers of the North, I am in need. I present to you the essence of earth. From my soul to yours, my strength burrows through this space, carrying this chant.” My mother's magic pulled from the corners of my well. Digging though every fiber of my being, it pushed through the floor and came back up into the crystal.

  One last turn, and now I faced the red candles. “Watchers of the South, I am in need. I present to you the essence of fire. From my core to yours, my spirit radiates through this space, carrying this prayer.” Deep inside me, the magic I inherited from my maternal grandfather and my paternal great grandmother ignited. Normally overlooked and dormant by the more recently acquired magic, the flames of my ancestors, vibrated off my skin toward the fire stone.

  All that was left were the life and death magic contained in every witch. Turning slowly in place, I continued as I kept my gaze locked above. “Watchers of Life and Death, I am in
need. I present to you my essence. My life is in your hands, my death is by your will. Restore to me what was taken, give me back my life's lessons. I am your tool, do with me as you will. Create or destroy. Breed or kill. Breathe or suffocate. Swim or drown. Nourish or deny. Comfort or burn. Here and now, what was and was not, what will be and cannot. Elements of life and death, or joy and sorrow, I cast this spell for a bright tomorrow!”

  A flash of light from below my gaze filled the air with a rainbow of colors until the darkness overtook the light and my strength vanished. Whatever thoughts or images I left behind became nothing as the abyss and I morphed into one.

  Chapter Nine

  "You need to stop." Kacie's hands were on her hips. "Enough is enough, Cora."

  "I'm so close. If I stop now, her soul will never be at rest. It will wander the earth forever." I pushed past my sister and into the restricted section of the library.

  "You don't know that for sure. Besides, Monica wouldn't want you to drive yourself crazy." The sound of her voice remained consistent as she followed me deeper into the shelves where the ancient texts were stored behind protective glass.

  "And what? Let her killers go free? What if I'm next? Or worse, what if you are? You live just one room away from mine. And you know they got to her while she was asleep. If her assistant had been living in her quarters with her, her assistant would have died as well."

  "And that's why I live up there with you. We're stronger in greater numbers. Isn't that National's new motto? Sire more witches and wizards. And, let me remind you, we are also behind in our numbers. It won't be long until someone from National shows up and demands to see our breeding records. And if that happens, they'll assign coupling partners without any regard for what each person might feel for the other."

  "Fine, then while I seek a way to find Monica's killers, you can look over the surveys and bloodlines. Make sure that each witch and wizard are at least seven generations apart from his or her partner. The last thing we need is for any abnormalities to develop in their offspring."

  "Seven is a bit much. Five generations are sufficient."

  Turning toward her, I raised a brow. "Isn't Ben Mead only five generations apart from Mother?"

  "Ben Mead? Please, he's like sixty years older than me. I'm so over that childish crush."

  The redness of her cheeks said otherwise. "Fine, five generations."

  "Good. There are at least eight couples I know of right now that are eager to add to our numbers." With that, she turned and practically skipped out of sight.

  If only everyone were so easily pleased. A sigh escaped me as a chill spiraled up my spine. Frozen in place, my mind filled with images that did not belong to me.

  Cinder and soot clouded the air. Snow black as night sizzled on massive ferns that covered the land underfoot. Dire grunts of the lower races called out through the valley. Aimlessly, they ran from the source of their early demise.

  I turned and saw the chosen of each clan gathering around the mirror pool. Each wore a stone around his or her neck, a gift to their ancestors from the beings of light and dark. Without the pendants, we were no better than those who foolishly ran from the neverending fire.

  "What can we do?" thought the one with wings and a long beak. "The air is too thick and too hot to fly through. My family fears staying too long in the trees will lead to starvation if we can’t hunt for food.”

  "Mine fears the same thing. The plants taste strange and are changing color," stated one with an extremely long neck and tail.

  "Our lands are overrun with outsiders," stated the one with three horns on his head.

  "We knew this day would come," I said. "The beings of light and dark foretold our ancestors."

  Each hung his or her head in shame for not believing.

  "What can we do?" asked one who was very small, but spat death.

  "What we were told to do," I grunted. "Remove your stone and cast it into the mirror. With our deaths, we will buy life."

  "And you've seen this?" asked the one who loved to soar through the air.

  "I have…"

  "We will not be the same," stated one who loved to swim.

  "But our kind will live, and slowly change over time," said the long neck. Dipping his head, his pendant slid over his brow and fell into the mirror pool.

  "Live and fly again," stated the one with wings as he cast his stone as well.

  Each in turn did their part until I was the only one left. With my stone, we all saw the future. Yes, pain and death would surely follow, but transformation and new life could emerge from the ashes of our world.

  Images of what happened next ran on as if someone pressed fast-forward. The end of the rain of fire almost instantly disappeared. The ground healed and life was renewed. Grand forests grew as seasons passed. The sea shrank and rose. Sometimes, it covered the land; other times it didn't. Beings so strange to us, but familiar in spirit, emerged from the cracks and crevices. Ones who stood on two feet instead of four cut down the trees to make new things. Never before had there been such a display of talent. Structures made out of saplings and bark gave way to planks of bare wood and then brick.

  The strange creatures changed in appearance— first wearing the fur of animals they killed, then preferring woven materials of soft white tufts over flesh and blood.

  New tools replaced the old. Our vision sunk deeper within the land, below all of the strange changes; and a light shone from above, landing on the dried-up mirror and our piles of bones.

  Among the ruins of our lives lay the combined essence of our souls. They were united in a singular, luminescent pearl. What we once were and who we are now played across its surface for the last time before the light retracted into the night.

  Blinking, I found myself back on the floor of the restricted section of the library. A mirror stone! It could show me who killed Monica! Hastily pulling myself onto my feet, I rushed out of the library and back up to my office.

  Kacie sat in her nightgown at her desk with several genealogical references opened in front of her. "Find anything?"

  "Maybe." I was practically bouncing as I logged on to my computer.

  "Good, because you missed dinner last night."

  "Dinner?" I looked up.

  "Yes, you know, the meal you eat once the sun goes down?"

  I glanced out the window. It looked like daytime to me.

  "You were down there all night."

  "Oh..." I started to Google some of the things I saw in my vision.

  "Cora..." Kacie groaned. "You're going to be useless now for the rest of the day."

  "No, I'm not. Besides, I have to leave."

  "And go where?"

  I turned the monitor toward her. "Here. I had a vision of this place."

  "That is not in our territory. That school... " Her eyes narrowed.

  "Belongs to the Silver Shore Coven. I know. I'll be in and out before anyone has a clue.”

  "And how do you exactly plan on doing that? That's in another freaking state!"

  "Oh... I'll take the train. And then the ferry to the island. You'll cover for me, won't you?"

  "Cora..."

  "Kacie, it is worth it. There is a mirror stone to be found."

  That caught her interest. "Mirror stone?"

  "Yep. Very, very, rare," I added.

  "Like how rare?"

  Now I was the one tilting my head at her. "Like in 'show me the beast' rare."

  "'Show me the beast'?" She had to think. "Oh, like the mirror from Beauty and the Beast! It lets you see anything you want to see?"

  "Yep. Past and present events, places, and people. So, if I said, 'Show me Monica Carmichael’s killer,' it could. I don't even have to cast a spell, or possess anything of hers to scry for their location."

  Kacie tapped her chin. "Fine; go for it. Go get ready. I'll buy your tickets and print them off the internet."

  The vision faded and resumed once I was in the cavern. A glowing orb of light magic lit my way as I
snuck onto the dig site at night. Shifting my vision to what I call the Arcane Plane, since all I really saw there were magic and life forces, I spotted the remains of the dinosaurs turned florescent. Pockets of air created by gasses trapped long ago were everywhere. I needed to watch my step, otherwise I’d fall into one of them and never be heard from again.

  Then, out of the inkwell of time, the circle of dinosaurs became visible. Elemental powers wrapped around their bare bones. Their souls were trapped.

  "Free, free, free. Free to roam the air, sea, and land. Your task is done, go home to those you love. ," I muttered as I touched each one in turn. Some of their power transferred into me, while the majority fed back into the elemental wells of nature.

  Not wanting to walk on the fractured ground, I commanded the mirror stone to transport itself to me. Yes, I could have done that from home, but I'd never been here before, and the risk of damaging the stone was extremely high. That, and until I actually touched the stone, I could also transport everything around it, which could result in the draining of all my powers before being knocked out for hours.

  As soon as the stone touched my palm, a counter spell knocked me back into one of the fossils.

  Ice wrapped around my bones, inflicting horrible aches and pains. Blinking several times, nothing stood out but blackness. Was I still in the cave? Were the last few days just one big, dumb dream my subconscious conjured up to keep me sane?

  Images from my past flashed through my mind like an animator's flipbook. I knew who I was and what experiences I survived in the past.

  My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I tried willing some spit to moisten it, but none came. My stomach was getting speared by pain, while my head felt like a herd of elephants were marching through it.