"Congratulations," I said, hugging Aislinn Veragard–the new council seat holder for the Western region. My smile stretched wide and taut.
I held onto her hand, wanting to tell her. The council was corrupt. They were murderers. Newton had asked me not to. We had to approach this cautiously, with care. The four women were powerful. More powerful than me, than Newton, especially together. I hadn't slept last night. Thinking on the look on her face, Jane Anne. And how she had pretended to be my friend. It made me wonder on the rest of the world. The councils in the different countries.
"Virginia…Virginia? Are you alright?" Aislinn was shaking me.
"What?! Oh! Aislinn, I'm sorry," I said, finally letting her go. "I uh, just had a long night. Again, congratulations."
"Thank you. I hope there's no hard feelings," Aislinn said to Antoinette and Newton.
Newton stepped forward and hugged Aislinn. "Of course not. You will do it and us justice, I'm sure." Newton held onto her too…for several seconds too long. Aislinn frowned at all three of us.
"Well, we have a plane to catch," Newton quickly excused us.
"Hey!" Aislinn said, grabbing my hand before I got two feet. "Virginia, my offer still stands. I won't be bound for at least another two weeks. We can still try and find your dad."
"Thanks, Aislinn," I said, and turned. Before I could give myself away.
The three of us left the ballroom in a quiet rush. We got to the airport, none of us talking about what had happened. We had to leave Sarah on the desert mountain. Buried under many feet of dirt, wrapped in silk, and a spell to preserve her body.
But the farther away we got from her, from Las Vegas, the worse I felt. We were leaving a sister behind. I could feel her binding stretching from me, from us.
…
"What are we going to do?" Antoinette finally sat down next to me. Staring at the red liquid in her tumbler, swirling it round and round.
"I don't know," Newton answered.
"I have to tell her. I have to tell Aislinn. We have to tell her. I don't know what happened between the two of you, Newt. But whatever it was, it's not enough to justify letting her step into a situation she may not be prepared for," I said.
"You're right. She deserves to know who they really are. How far they'll go to do their jobs."
I felt for Newt. Not forty-eight hours ago she had learned that the women she so admired, the witches that affected our world so, were not what they seemed. That the traditions that she valued…were not what they seemed.
I felt…too many things to name. I was a witch, designed, conjured. For some purpose I didn't know. But the emotion I thought I'd be able to leave behind, the guilt, it was still there. All these years, I thought I was responsible for his death, and now, maybe that wasn't true. But I didn't feel any better.
"We can't leave her out there forever you know," Antoinette said, not looking up from her curled spot at the end of the couch. "We have to return her to her family. It's the right thing to do."
"I know," Newt said.
"What are we going to tell them?" she asked.
"The truth." Newton sighed. "I'll take full responsibility. Let them know she was a good witch. A good person. She didn't deserve to be caught up in…whatever this is."
"This is horse shit," I said and stood.
"What are you talking about?" Newt asked, her voice tired and slow.
"You're not taking responsibility for anything. You didn't do anything. They did. I'm going to make this right. I'm not afraid of them, Newt. I'm going to find out what happened. Why Jane Anne did what she did." I rummaged through my purse and found the scrap of paper. "But first, I have to do something." I picked up my phone and dialed.
"Aislinn? It's Virginia Walker."
"Virginia, I was hoping you'd be calling. Everything alright?"
"No. Aislinn, does your offer still stand? I'd like to try and find my father."
"Of course."
"And…I need to tell you something."
The line was silent for a moment.
"Alright. I'm just across the border. I can meet you at my sister's house, that address I gave you, in a few hours. Is that soon enough?"
I blew out a breath. "Yes. That's perfect. Thank you."
"I'll see you soon."
"Wait! Doesn't your sister need something familiar? Should I bring an article of clothing or piece of jewelry?"
"Of course. Anything he owned or touched. She can pull from that," she said and hung up.
Newton and Antoinette stood. "Well, we're going with you."
"No." I shook my head hard. "I need to do this by myself, Newt. There's something I need to tell my father. Something I've been holding on to for a long time."
And it was something I didn't want them to hear.
…
I sat in my car on Lexy Lane, taking deep breaths. Feeling nervous and anxious. But excited. I ran my fingers across the face of the book delicately. Where the Wild Things Are. I still had most of the books from my childhood. And Dad and I had read this one a thousand times together. And though I was grown, it was still one of my favorites.
The house was set back into a hill at the end of the street. It was a single story brick home with curved adobe styling on the sides. Like someone had started with 50's architectural designs and later decided on Southwest and desert styles. I walked up and knocked on the door once. It swung open.
"Hello?"
I could see the outlines of an open foyer directly inside the house. With a large living room to the left, and a kitchen to the right.
"Hello?" I didn't know what kind of car Aislinn drove, but there was a car in the driveway. I felt presumptuous entering, but maybe that's why the door was unlocked.
I stepped inside.
The house had a coldness to it. Like no one had lived there for a while. There were almost no lights on, only the hint of life toward the back of the house from light seeping around the corners. I peeked over the counters to get a look at the kitchen.
"Wow. I guess a sculptor really does live here." The kitchen was a mess. Instead of a clean antiseptic environment, there were artists' supplies everywhere. Boxes of sand, plaster, and clay. Some of them open, spilling out onto the floor. Paint cans of all sizes. Brushes everywhere. Some of them never washed and still colored from end to tip. A big wooden sculpting wheel occupied a full corner of the kitchen.
I continued walking toward the light at the back of the house. Pausing to admire all the beautiful artwork. The living room coffee table held a large clay sculpture of a naked woman laying on her side. She was placid and serene. It was sensuous but innocent. I touched the curves lightly and felt the artist, felt the art. It was imbued with the feminine spirit. I looked forward to meeting its creator.
Another turn down a short hallway led me outside to a patio. Where I could see Aislinn. The patio was far more elaborate than the house. Trees hung down from all sides of the round patio space. Planters and flowers bloomed in every corner. Aislinn herself was sitting on a stone bench in front of a fire, reading.
"Virginia, please enter. I see you found your way back. And the open door. I apologize, I get lost in my reading."
"Quite alright. It is…beautiful back here. I'd want to stay here too." The magic in the space was lush and thick. Almost loud. Like the jungle at night.
"Thank you. My sister loved this space. She spent much of her time out here. Painting. Sculpting. Dancing." She smiled.
I frowned and looked around us, "She doesn't come out here anymore? Where is she anyway? I didn't see anyone else in the house."
She rose and sighed, "Why don't you have a seat." She gestured to one of the stone benches. "It's a little more complicated than that."
"What do you mean?"
"It means her sister doesn't live here anymore."
I turned.
"Newton? Antoinette? What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"Virginia, Aislinn has been lying to you," Antoinette said, stepping around to stand to my right. She did not take her eyes from Aislinn.
"Why have you brought her here, Aislinn?" Newton asked, stepping farther to the left. "Your sister can't help her. Can she?"
Aislinn stood stock still. Her pale blue eyes sinking.
"You ok?" Newton asked me.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but what the hell is going"
The second it took for me to ask the question, for us to turn our heads, Aislinn had disappeared.
"Where did she go?" I asked, turning to Antoinette.
"Damn," Antoinette said, fear lacing her voice. "I took my eyes off her for a second."
"Aislinn!" Newton yelled. "Why did you ask her here?" Her power pushed out.
Something was happening here. They obviously knew something I didn't.
"Coo-coo ca do
I see you
Three little witches plus one
But soon minus two."
Aislinn's voice was suddenly everywhere. In the air in front of me, in my head, on my tongue. I pushed my power out too. Her voice was riding the lines in all directions, vibrating them in a way I'd never seen.
"Three little witches plus one…" she kept repeating the incantation.
"Where is she?"
I nodded at Antoinette, not taking my eyes from the lines, following the waves as they shortened to an area between a line of stone benches.
"But soon minus two…"
"There!" I yelled, seeing the glow of her eyes in the shadows of a tree.
But Aislinn was way ahead of me. As she stepped out her hands came up. A cloud of dust burst into the air. She kept her hands out, her lips moving in a blur of intonations. I couldn't hear them, but I was certain they weren't meant to be good. Antoinette had already reacted. Her hands were up too. Most of the dust was caught in an unnatural wind. It circled the center of the patio, drawing oxygen from all sides into the fire below and sucking it up. Newton's eyes were closed, her palms pointed at Aislinn. Her lips were moving too. Fast and low.
"Stop!" I screamed across the dirt floor of the patio to Aislinn.
Newton began to cough, as did Antoinette. As the dust trickled through their defenses. The dust was ignoring me. It was directed at them.
But soon minus two. Aislinn's words echoed in my head.
She was trying to hurt them. Or worse.
I went to lift my leg to run to Aislinn. To stop her. But it wouldn't move. They wouldn't move. I was stuck.
I looked down at my own patterns. Muscles. Tendons. Ligaments. Bones. Blood flowing. But not my electrical system. Where there should've been a light show mimicking lights off a disco ball, there were static slow blinking lights. She had somehow affected my nervous system.
I looked over across the patio at Aislinn. Maybe I could stop hers in the same way. But I could not see her. The space just in front of Aislinn's body was grey and fuzzy. Empty. As if she weren't there at all. Her magic was hiding her.
When I looked back to Newton and Antoinette, they were coughing harder, and something had changed. Something terrible. Their bodies, their patterns, were being pulled, the light from them was being drawn out into the lines in the vortex between them and Aislinn. She was taking from them. Taking their energy. The storm between them glowed with their life. I suddenly wished for a storm. A real storm. Like the ones we had in west Texas, where the skies would drop six inches of rain in an hour. The thought gave me an idea.
"Antoinette! Water!" I yelled over to her. Trying to be heard above the howls of the cyclone.
"What?!"
"Water! Plants! Trees!" We needed to get rid of the dust. There was probably drugs, and who knows what else, in it. And I knew what water would do to it. Contain it. Turn it from fine particulates to mud.
"Water!" I yelled again, moving my head and staring as hard as I could at the trees and plants. "Get the water!"
She spared a small quick glance around then gave me a tiny wicked grin. She understood. She shifted her right hand, palm out and reaching, stretching to reach the trees, the cactus, the plants, the brush, everything around us that held water. She yelled and coughed as the first beads of moisture floated in. The water began to coalesce, mix into the air. The cyclone turned from a fine cloud to a dirty reddish-brown. The fauna wilted, slowly and painfully as Antoinette pulled every drop of H2O from their leaves, stems and roots.
Antoinette went to her knees. Newton was already there.
It's not enough. I thought.
Whatever was happening, whatever Aislinn wanted from me, I couldn't let her hurt them anymore. But her magic was too strong, too powerful. I looked out into the Fabric, beseeching it for a solution. The thread of time glistened and waved. It sparkled brightly at me. I went to lift my hands to touch it.
Duh. I couldn't move them either.
It's just a placebo anyway, Virginia. You don't need them. I thought to myself and pulled on the thread. It responded. It began to bend and stretch. I yelled, willed it to stretch and expand even harder. The scene before me began to slow down. I gave one last scream.
"Stop!" I willed and pulled like I've never wanted anything so badly in my life.
Fwump!
A giant pop echoed around us. It shook my insides and rippled across the ground.
Then…nothing. There was nothing. No sound. No air. No draw. Nothing. I opened my eyes to an unmoving world.
There was the cyclone, massive and still, pulling the orange and red flames of the fire up into its apex. Brown rivulets hung in the air. Antoinette was still on her knees, her face stuck in a perpetual grimace. Newton was lying on her side, clutching her stomach.
But goddamn, it was beautiful. One of the most beautiful and perfect things I'd ever seen. Every pattern was still, sparkled. Every molecule, every dance of life, caught in its act. We were frozen. Frozen in a single moment in time.
I stepped forward, happy to discover that my legs worked again, and walked around the static flames to Aislinn. Her face was also frozen. Her expression eternally angry.
"What the hell happened to you, Aislinn?" I asked. Though it was pointless. She couldn't hear me. "And what am I going to do with you?" I whispered then whirled on my feet as a flash of light sparked behind me.
I blinked a few times before speaking. "Dad?"
"Hello, Bunny."
There he was, standing next to the frozen fire and dust turned to mud, looking so familiar, so much like I remembered. Wearing his favorite dark blue cord-pants and matching jacket with a cotton button-up plaid shirt and wool knit tie. His smile crooked and kind. His grey and ginger hair thinning and unkempt.
I rushed forward but stopped. I wanted to hug him, but he wasn't really there. His body glimmered, real, but opaque. "Dad, I…" I stopped, noticing the thing hanging from his neck. It was the symbol. The symbol that I'd seen that night, and that day.
"Dad, what is that? Was that you?" I'd imagined this moment more than a few times. But that was not the first thing I had ever imagined saying.
He fingered the amulet that hung from a brown leather cord. "Oh yes, I'm afraid that was me. Your mother made this for me when you were a baby. She said it would embody and balance my major energy centers," he laughed. "Or some such silly thing."
What a wonderful sound. To hear him laugh again.
I opened my mouth to ask him why. Why he would lead me to danger.
"I wasn't leading you honey," he said, stepping forward. "I was trying to warn you. I knew she was coming."
He was close. So close. I could almost touch him.
"Why didn't you just say something, Dad? Why not try to contact me? Like now?"
"Sweetheart, you've been looking for me. But I haven't gone anywhere. I've been here the whole time. Trying to get your attention. Loving you."
I closed my eyes. Squeezed them shut. Swallowed back the first tears. When I opened them, he was a mere foot away. The scar just under his left eye, the one he got when he was kid falling out of a tree, was clearly visible. My eyes drifted to his chest. There was no blood. No gear shifter. No holes.
"I'm alright now, Virginia."
The tears fell, whether I wanted them to or not.
He smiled sadly. "How I wish I could give you a great big 'ol hug right now."
"I'm so sorry, Dad." The tears fell fast now. "I'm so sorry."
"Virginia," he hushed and shooed. Until I had spent most of my tears. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong," he said softly.
"It was my fault. The accident was my fault."
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"That night, I screamed at you. When I saw the pole come across the road. But Dad, there was no pole in the road. It didn't fall. It was a ripple. A goddamn ripple. It was nothing. It was something conjured by those witches. Death. I saw it again a couple of nights ago. But I didn't know that at the time. But the accident…it was my fault. You're dead because of me."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't turn the wheel, and I didn't die, because you yelled. It wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault. And it wasn't theirs. That wasn't death, it was change."
"What are you talking about?"
"I saw it too. Scary lookin' thing I agree. But it wasn't death. What you saw was the tides changing. I never thought in a million years I'd see somethin' so other-worldly. But I think all those years with your mother must've cockeyed your old man." He smiled.
"I don't understand. Are you trying to spare my guilt? Cause that's…crazy. That's a chicken and egg question. You're saying the cause of the accident was…the cause. Or the effect was the cause. That makes no sense."
"You mean a closed loop," he said and smiled again. It was a familiar smile. Dad loved science. It made him happy. "No, that's not necessarily what I'm saying. What works in this dimension, yours, doesn't necessarily follow in the others. Not all the rules are the same. Cause and effect, up and down, hot and cold, one can exist without the other. And this might be difficult to understand, but it was my time. And there's nothing you could've done to stop that."
I stared at him for the longest time. Not understanding. Not wanting to.
"I always knew you were special, Virginia. That change was big enough to cross over, for me to see it. And when you crossed over with me, and came back, you brought something with you. You see there are...bridges, of a sort between these planes. And you are part of the bridge now. You are going to do extraordinary things. You must be extra special."
"Please don't say that."
"Now look here daughter of mine. You can't be afraid of change. Everything changes. And I've never known you to back down from a challenge."
"But it's not fair. Why me? Why us? I miss you so much. And those last moments, I didn't want to die. Maybe if I had held on to you. Maybe if I had brought you back. We were so close to help. But I let you go. I made you go. I failed you."
"You didn't fail me. I was afraid. But that was my fear, not yours. And I am sorry for that. But you must focus on the wonderful twenty-five years we had. Not the last hour. And I spent my last day exactly how I wanted," he grinned. "With my daughter."
"No," I shook my head hard. "No, my power, I can see things now. I can do things. I can bend time. Maybe I can stretch it backwards, go back, we can just stay home that day. If I give up my power, will it give you back your life?"
He laughed. Long and hard. I had to smile. "What are you laughing at? That wasn't meant to be funny."
"I'm sorry honey, you're twice as sweet and triply stubborn as your mother," he wiped at his imagined tears. "I know this has been hard on you. And this may be difficult to understand. But you and I, we can't exist in the same space anymore. Not with who you've become. The woman you are today."
"You're right. I don't understand."
He studied me for a long second. "Yes. Yes you do, Virginia." His hand reached out, brushed through my sleeve and arm. "Things look so very different from this side. I wish I could convey what I've seen. What I know now."
"Why can't you?"
He smiled, his sparkling fingers coming within an inch of my cheek, his mouth open, the thought hanging there on his lips. He closed his mouth quickly and stepped back. "But you are certainly right about one thing."
"Just one thing huh?" I smiled. "What's that?"
"This moment. Every moment. The most important time is always the present. It's where all opportunities lie. You can never get back the present."
"Dad…why didn't she just tell me it was you? She made that. She knew exactly what it was." I pointed to the amulet on his chest.
"Your mother," he said. "I asked her not to."
"Why?"
"Because getting here on your own is part of the magic. Hope, love, courage, forgiveness–these are the doorways to the other realms. And sometimes knowing only gets in the way."
I shook my head. "Now you sound more like Mom. That's no good."
"You and your mother," his bright blue eyes shifted back and forth, roved over my face and hair. "Are so much alike. So much more than you want to admit. I just wish the two of you could see your way to some peace." He sighed, "Alas, that is out of my hands. I would ask that you do one thing for me though honey."
"Of course, anything."
"Forgive yourself. Let go. You will find so many obstacles simply disappear if you do but that."
"I don't know, Dad. I don't know if I can do this. I don't know what the universe, what the Fabric, wants from me. All these years, I thought the accident was my fault. And now, you're saying that it wasn't? That it was fate itself? I don't know what that means. What it's supposed to mean."
"Why does it need to mean something?"
"It just…does. I guess." I was losing it. That anger that I'd been holding on to.
"Then just let it go," he whispered, reading my mind again. I nodded. Because it seemed really important to him. I suppose it should be important to me too.
"Now, Virginia Walker, what are you going to do about her?" He looked over to Aislinn.
"I don't know, Dad. I don't know what she wants."
"Neither do I."
"What will happen if I bring her into this space? At least my friends are safe for now."
"Again, I wish I knew. But you can't stay in this moment forever. Unlike in here, time is moving out there. You have to talk to her."
"You're right. I have to find out what she wants. Maybe if I find out what it is, she'll leave us alone."
He didn't look convinced. I didn't feel convinced. I spotted an old rusted thin trowel laying in the dirt in a planter. I could pick it up, kill her. Right now. Before she had the chance to finish whatever it was she had started.
"No," Dad said softly. "No sweetie. Don't do something you can't undo. Talk to her. Reason with her. I have faith in you."
I sighed and nodded. I wasn't a killer. I had the upper hand. For now. I had to trust I could handle whatever she threw at me. I turned, touching Aislinn's outstretched right hand.
She blinked slowly, her eyes taking in the patio. She smiled widely.
"Wow. Virginia. I knew you were powerful. But this," she twirled around, stopped to pluck a mud drop out of the air, squeezing it with her fingers.
"What do you want Aislinn? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I was suddenly so angry.
"Hey, easy. Don't be so quick to assume you know me. There is nothing wrong with me. Not anymore."
Another flash of light sparked behind me. I turned to see a familiar face. The one I'd seen in the maze. The young woman that Mom said had visited her too. She wore the same black dress. In fact, it looked a lot like the one Aislinn was wearing. I turned my eyes to Dad.
"Her sister–Meara," he answered the question in my head.
Aislinn followed my eyes. Trying to see what I did. But she couldn't see Dad. Or her sister.
"Your sister," I said. "What happened to her?"
Aislinn's jaw clenched. She ran her fingers down the middle of her naked chest. A strangely erotic and nervous gesture.
"You know, the first time I met you, I thought you were just another initiate. A strange young witch born of strange circumstances. But then, that night, I saw you again. Behind the restaurant. And I knew. I knew it was destiny. Fate. Putting you in my path. I knew you were the key."
"You were there."
The mental tumblers began falling into place. The last few weeks, the magic, the drugs, the people, the unnatural draw that I'd felt, it was all her.
"I had to make them pay for what they'd done."
"The brothers. You knew them. You did that to them. That guy, Lionel. What did they do to you? Why would you bespell someone to hurt someone they love?"
"Because they hurt someone I loved!" she screamed, her eyes red and puffed.
I stared at Aislinn, then looked over my shoulder at her sister Meara again. Meara regarded her sister with great affection and love. But such sadness.
"She's here, Aislinn. Your sister."
She looked cautiously over my right shoulder. "No. She isn't. She has moved on."
"She doesn't want this for you. Meara is"
"Don't you dare! Do not speak her name!"
I froze as Aislinn's furious voice vibrated the lines into shockwaves. She took a deep breath then picked up her dual-toned hair. Let it fall dramatically down her back. Her mouth twitched open and closed; she brushed her chin and neck with her fingertips several times, like she had a dozen tics going at once.
"Meara was…a very special girl. So sensitive. She was what I said. One of the most gifted Mortora's in our world. But she was so shy. Too shy for her own good. Too macabre for the world of sleepers, even witches. She was out one night, at the Mount Grey cemetery, talking to the dead. Like she often did." A shadow crossed Aislinn's face. "That cemetery is a popular place for partying. Drinking. Drugs."
I knew that cemetery. I'd never been to it. But I knew where her story was going.
"I was in Flagstaff that week. Casting for the successful opening of the new wing of the clinic. Stupid clinic. To help people merge with their inner beauty." She laughed bitterly, wiped at the corners of her mouth with her fingers, like her lipstick needed culling, then continued. "I knew something was wrong. Meara didn't answer any of my calls. And I couldn't feel her anymore. I finally got the phone call from the police. She had been found dead in an open burial plot. Buried alive. They said it was an accident. How can someone drowning in dirt be an accident!" she screamed, her anger renewed. "My sister, she was always on the cusp of death. Talking to the dead more than her own kind. I knew it wasn't an accident. I knew. But they wouldn't listen. I was so angry. I turned the house upside down. That's when I found the first Ngao'bliss. It was like it was meant to be." Aislinn's mind disappeared behind wandering eyes for a few long seconds.
"I spent a month reading it, scouring it. I found a spell to manipulate retired ripples. Something only the council is said to be able to do. But I was able to go back and see what really happened. Those three men you tried to help, you tried to defend, they found her wandering the cemetery, tried to rape her. But she fought. My sister was a fighter. When that didn't work they dragged to her an open plot and threw her in. Starting kicking dirt in after her…laughing. I think her foot got caught. She tried to get out. But she panicked. I told the council she had been murdered. Asked for their help. They told me since she was never bound to a coven, they could not interfere. And then, they did something horrible. Something unforgiveable. They cast forgetfulness over her memory. So no witch would know how she died."
The breath in my chest turned sour. Deflated my spirit. I looked at Meara again. But she had eyes for Aislinn only.
"I'm so sorry, Aislinn. That's awful. That was wrong of them." I couldn't imagine, knowing, then seeing something awful happen to someone you loved. I had watched my father die. But not like that. And then to have someone tell you it would be forgotten. As someone who wanted to protect my father's memory from being dragged into prophecies and used to bolster magical intent, I could relate.
"Don't be sorry. I remembered. That was enough. It was the catalyst I needed. I'm a grown woman. Not a fucking child needing to be told what I can and cannot do. What magic is good or bad. There is no good or bad magic! Only magic!"
"And choice Aislinn. You yourself said that. What choices are you making?!"
"The only ones left to me," she answered quietly. "I took their sanity first. Those men. Then I took their happiness. I took what they loved most and turned it against them. They tried to forget what they'd done. But I made them remember. And now, I've taken their lives."
Oh boy.
"And now, you are going to give me what I need last."
She picked up the book she had been reading.
"Do you know what this is? This was my great-great grandmothers. It is the first Ngao'bliss. The one that was not regulated. Before the end of the trials. There are spells in here that haven't been used in centuries. Spells to undo bindings, manipulate emotions, thoughts. Spells to manipulate the Draw. Before we had labels on what was right and wrong."
"You've been manipulating natural magnetism." The idea that she had learned how to control the forces between the tides, the forces that draw people and events together, made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't even say why it was so wrong. But it was wrong.
"You pulled me up the hill that day. It wasn't my father. It was you."
She frowned at the mention of my father. "Yes, that was me. I wanted to see what you could do when pushed. What you would do to him. It was a fantastic show by the way. And it told me what I needed to know. Do you know what else is in here?" she asked, setting the book back down.
It was clearly a rhetorical question. And saying–I don't care–would probably not help me.
"A prophet over a thousand years ago divined an event. That some witch would be born of tragedy. That her relationship to the Fabric would be so completely unique, so unusual, that she could see into the Fabric, manipulate it."
"A prophecy. I thought this was about you. Are you saying that all of this is because of some stupid fucking prophecy?" My anger was feeding on my exhaustion, and back again. "Do you know how many prophecies there are in the Ngao'bliss? Some of them even contradict each other."
"I'm not finished. This particular divination was removed from the new version. Because of the second part. That this witch is supposed to break the bindings of every council. Make them obsolete. Take their power."
"That's ridiculous. And not possible."
"The council can see the tides, the ripples, as they are all connected. But they can't see me. Not anymore. So yes, it is possible. That someone in the prophecy, that someone who will dissolve the watchers, is you Virginia. It describes you. And you and I, with your power, and my knowledge of old magic, we can do whatever we want. Create whatever kind of magic we want. Maybe even change the tides. Get your father back. Get my sister back."
Get Dad back. That was the single most interesting thing she'd said yet. It was tempting…very tempting. But somehow, I believed him. Not necessarily understood, but believed. When he said we couldn't exist in the same space anymore.
"Aislinn, I think you're confusing a problem with authority with a hunger for power," I told her.
"No," she shook her crazy little head hard. "You are the one. You can do this. But in order to fulfill this, you must accept who you are. You are a witch. You're no longer a sleeper. That life is behind you. I've been trying to show you that. Push the guilt, the remorse, the things that control you, from your subconscious into your conscious mind."
"Aislinn," I stopped her. "It wasn't Jane Anne was it? It was you. Somehow…you killed Sarah."
Her aura shifted, I saw the image of Jane Anne pass in front of her, existing as an opaque shadow. "Yes, I did borrow from your Copycat. And her death was…unfortunate. But necessary."
The anger, the impatience in me, grew. Aislinn had been manipulating me the whole time.
"But I had to win the seat, Virginia. I had to win the seat. I need to know how the bindings work. I manipulated the summoning, yes. But I had to change the election, Newton had a real chance of winning."
She kept talking, but I stopped listening. All the hesitation that I'd felt in the last ten years, when using my gift, receded into the depths of my head. My mind zoomed in on her. I willed the nearby threads to make new connections. Unweave the magic that was hiding her. And reveal her patterns. Her connection to the Fabric.
So Aislinn wanted me to be a witch…embrace my powers. She was about to find out what I could do. She finally noticed what was happening and quieted as I worked.
"It feels good to be angry doesn't it?" I felt her voice floating on the threads. "It focuses your power. Brings your energy into alignment."
She was right. My own patterns had expanded. They were red, sharp, and hot. Moving with a single and larger purpose. I could keep going, tear her apart if I wanted. Break through her defenses and unravel her at a spiritual level. Her face showed the strain she was exerting keeping me out.
My father was suddenly beside me. He said nothing. Merely possessed an expression only parents can assume–disappointment.
I sighed and let go. "Aislinn," I said. "What happened to you and your sister was awful. And I'm sorry. But you did a terrible selfish thing too. You are the one making choices based on your remorse. I can't follow you anywhere. And I'm not giving you one more damn minute of my time. You need to leave. Now. I don't want to kill you."
Aislinn nodded slowly, as if she were disappointed too. "There is a particularly savory spell in the first book, one of my favorites I must say. It is a spell to take another witches power. Take her, or his, gifts. So, Virginia, this is your last offer. Come with me. We are still sisters. I'm not good or evil. I'm free. You can be free too. Men have had their chance to rule the world. And they've blown it. You and I can create new spells, new magic, put women back in power. We can be loved, and feared, again." She held out her pale hand to me. "Or I will take what the Fates gave you for myself."
It would be an utter bald-faced lie to say I wasn't tempted…just a smidge. But I looked back over my shoulder to my frozen sisters. "Aislinn, you are asleep again. If you were ever awake."
Her beautiful face turned ugly. I may as well have kicked her in the groin. There was no greater insult to a witch.
Her hands came up, her lips moved, her power rushed out. I went right to my knees. Feeling more horrible than I'd ever felt in my life. As if my happiness, my joy, my love, were being pulled from my body. Even my pain, my sadness, things that I never thought I'd miss, things I never thought to treasure. All of them, being extracted via psychic surgery, being consumed by her. And my power, my gift, something I always struggled with wanting at all, it began leaving me too.
I tried to find her again. Get desperate. Get angry. But there was the Fabric, the lines, the threads, bright and glowing, flowing into what should've been human patterns. But my light was illuminating only the muddy air between us, disappearing into an empty space.
"Dad?" I asked, slumping down to sit. I was so tired. So empty. "Any ideas?"
I thought of Mom. And how I'd left our last conversation. I couldn't take that back. I wanted to.
"She knows honey, she knows."
I laughed. "Remember what she used to say? That there was no magic that could hold her. No magic that could call her. I always thought she was full of shit. But now, I wish I had asked her what she meant. Not that I would've understood it at the time."
He laughed too and smiled. "Well…that is a good question. The right question. Your mother knew something about magic," he said and bent down. "Something very important, very intrinsic. Do you know why her spells are working on you?"
"Aislinn's?"
"Yes. Aislinn's. She's using your emotions against you. She is using your own struggle, your fear of loss, to fuel the magic. Give it to her freely. Let go of it."
That sounded awfully counterintuitive. But what other options did I have? I was becoming an empty husk of me.
I looked up to my connection. My line was normally fat and wide. Now it flickered and waned. I gave it up. I gave up the struggle to control my magic. The struggle to be right. To be in control. I gave up the childish idea that the fates were out to get me. That somehow I was the center of the universe. Now that I was sitting here, feeling empty and tired, it seemed so foolish.
"Here you go Aislinn, for what it's worth." It was all I could do to speak the words. To whisper.
I closed my eyes and thought of Dad. Of that day. And so many others. Of our singing, our laughing, our treks through the woods behind the house. I thought of Newton, of her similar stubborn nature, of her offer to sacrifice her sense of duty to make me happy. I thought of Antoinette. How she seemed to always glow from the inside out. I thought of Mom. And how much we loved to fight. I thought of Lilly last. How strong she was. How smart. And what a wonderful woman she would become. That was a good thought. A simple one.
I smiled my own crooked smile and opened my eyes. I felt…better. Not so horrible. In fact, with every breath, I felt a little better. I stood. The mass of light and energy that Aislinn had been consuming slowed. And finally stopped. She stood back, stumbling on her feet.
"How…how did you do that?"
I grinned. "I don't know."
I did know. But I didn't think she would understand. I opened my mouth to offer her my help. The council had turned their backs on her. I didn't want to do the same thing. But I knew she had made up her mind. "It's over, Aislinn."
She smiled sadly. "No. For me, it's just beginning." She stepped back into the shadows. Her body oscillating and fluttering as she rejoined the normal flow of space and time.
I looked over to thank Pops. For not only saving my life, but my sisters' as well. He was gone. As was Meara.
…
Our footsteps echoed loudly off the stone walls of the house. The house we were in, the home of the council, was in southern Wyoming. When I had searched my memory, I found that the map was there in my head, from ten years ago. Newt, Antoinette, and I decided to try and find them ourselves. Surprise them so to speak.
"This way," I said, looking up, following the high subtle four bright lines above us. When we started our trek this morning, I was surprised how easy it was to find them. Find their lines out there in the Fabric. They have a very unique, bonded signature. Like no other.
We turned another corner down a long hallway. Oak and elm trees protruded up from the floors like snakes, twisting and turning up the walls, and disappeared into the ceiling. The barks at the base seemed to be part of the tile floors, as if the materials didn't know they weren't related. Just like at Mom's place.
"So…I guess I owe my mother a phone call," I said.
"Oh yeah you do," Antoinette said, patting my back.
"She called a few minutes after you left," Newton said. "Said that wherever you had gone, that we should go there too. Immediately."
"Ugh. I sort of ignored her phone calls."
"Well…you were a little busy," Newton smiled. "But we should really be thanking Meara. She's the one that warned your mother. Claire said she showed her an image of Aislinn. That her desperation was enough to bring the image across."
"Yeah, I will thank her." I looked up. "Whenever I see her again. But I think she deserves some peace right now."
Newton touched my elbow. "There," she said, pointing to a set of double doors. I looked up again, seeing the fine vibrations move into the room beyond. I nodded at Newt.
We walked up to the double doors, ready for anything, and opened them. The four council members rose abruptly from their seated positions around a circular stone table. Aislinn took her time standing.
"How…how did you find us?" Susannah blushed and started.
I ignored her.
"I'll say one thing about you Aislinn, you've got some big balls. Coming here, thinking we wouldn't hold you accountable. Thinking you could still take the seat."
The four women turned slowly toward Aislinn. Aislinn sighed loudly and walked around the table to face us. I pushed my power out, wrapping it around Newton and Antoinette.
"You should not have come here. You should've left your atrocities between us," she said.
The three of us spared a quick glance for each other.
"These three witches have been casting against me," she said. "Before and after the election. Newton bespelled that witch from the Orange County coven, and those two sleepers, to conspire to disrupt the elections. She was desperate. She wanted the seat so badly." Aislinn faced us again, her expression a fabulous mixed feign of regret and sympathy. "I was gracious enough to let this go. So that you, our sisters, could go without harsh punishment. But you have obviously decided against gracious platitudes."
"Is this true Newton?" Jane Anne asked.
Newton did not answer. She took her phone out of her pocket. Flipped through a few screens then tapped twice. She set the phone down on the center of the stone table.
The four council members watched the screen, watched Aislinn cast strange magic and confess her crimes.
Newton. She's one smart cookie. She guessed, properly, that Aislinn was the one who had been hiding behind magic. And it would be our word against hers. If we survived. Which we did. Newton had brought a small video recorder, and set it in a corner of the patio. To document Aislinn's performance.
Aislinn's expression turned sour. Her eyes icing over and fixed on me.
"It's called technology," I said.
The four women turned their eyes to her. The air in the room sucked in, like it was taking a deep breath. Their magic rushed at her, but she was ready. The lights went out. The room was cast into darkness. My sight flared and scanned the room. She had already left, her lines leaving a trail of light out the doors. I started the incantation for clarity. Newton and Antoinette followed my lead. When the fog had cleared, the four women sat heavily in their seats. They said nothing to us for several minutes, but stared at each other and the doors. I could see their magic reaching out to search for her.
"Don't bother," I interrupted them. "She is very skilled at hiding."
"Why would Aislinn risk such perilous desires?" Magnolia asked. Poor Magnolia. She looked like she was ready to retire too.
"Why do you think?" I answered her. Newton was letting me drive. I was glad of it. And she was as upset as I was that they had turned Aislinn away. Even Newton had been foggy about Meara's fate. That was their doing. "Aislinn's sister, Meara, was murdered. Aislinn asked for your help bringing those men to account, but you bound her sisters' memory. The memory of her death. I can't even begin to tell you how cold an act that is."
These women, even Jane Anne, did not seemed accustomed to negative feedback. But I was not afraid of them. Not anymore. If I ever really was.
"And in order to get here, inside with you, she killed one of our own. A witch from our coven. Her name was Sarah Mehta. Aislinn has made her choices, but you are not beyond culpability. You turned away a sister when she asked for help. Because of what? Some arbitrary law saying we couldn't help an unbound witch?"
They had the good graces to look embarrassed.
"She also has a copy of the first Ngao'bliss."
They paused and collectively answered, "That is bad."
I laughed. It was a seriously undramatic response to the shit storm that was now Aislinn Veragard.
"And she told me. About the divination. About me."
They said nothing. But stared holes into my face.
"Well? Is it true?"
Jane Anne stood and walked around the table. She took a deep breath. "We don't know. We had assumed it was a false prophecy. A misread changing of the tides. But," she looked over her shoulder to them, then back to me. "We think it is highly probably. Given what you can do. Given that you can…unweave our collective intent so easily. There is something else. You see, part of our duty is to look out into the tides. Keep them in balance. Stop humanity from possibly destroying itself."
You're not doing a real bang-up job ladies. I thought rudely.
"But we cannot destroy free-will. It is an essential part of our evolution," Jane Anne added quickly, eyeing me shrewdly. "Everything is represented in the tides. As the tides change, as they always are, new ripples are created. Every ripple, every event, moves and creates other ripples, extending out to make new possible futures. But there is one event we cannot see past. One that is so significant, that it seems to take over every other ripple. Like a giant wave. And that event is tied to you."
I paused and swallowed, feeling suddenly ill. "So…what does that mean?" I asked.
Jane Anne returned to her seat. "We don't know," they answered in unison.
"What does this have to do with you? Am I…supposed to hurt you? Like Aislinn said?"
They nodded again in unison. "We do not know the answer to that question. But…" Susannah, our regional council holder, finished their sentence alone. "The prophecy does say that this person will be the end of us. Of all of us. All witches everywhere."
"Jeez. Look, for what it's worth, I don't believe in prophecies. I have no intention of hurting you. Any of you. I don't want to hurt anyone or anything! And I don't want to take anything that doesn't belong to me. And my destiny, whatever it may be, is my own."
"Fair enough, Virginia," Jane Anne answered me.
"So…this is what you were hiding? You really didn't have anything to do with Henry's death?"
"Yes. And no," they said softly.
I blew out a ten year old breath. "Good. What I saw that night was…my father said it was fate itself. Like a change. Is that true?"
"You saw…a tide?" Melody stood and asked.
I nodded. She sat back in her chair heavily.
"You never told us that," Jane Anne said, seeming to come out of the four-headed funk of the council. "That is a significant detail to leave out of your story. Please elaborate."
When I had finished telling them, everything, every detail, about that night, they almost seemed awed.
"Why would you lie to us?" Jane Anne asked.
"I'm sorry I…left out part of my story."
"Those are semantics, Virginia. An omission of that size is dangerously close to lying."
"I'm sorry but I didn't know what I was looking at. And I thought it was my fault. I thought I caused the accident."
"It wasn't your fault. Of course it wasn't. But…what you saw were the tides themselves. No one but council members have seen the tides. And only when bound to the council itself. In fact, you may be the first person to witness a closed event. Nothing you could've done would have stopped the events from unfolding, just as they did. We saw this, just as you did."
"We did," I politely reminded her of my father's involvement.
"Yes," she nodded solemnly. "Of course, your father."
"This person," Magnolia spoke. "That the divinations speak of, must be you. No one has been part of a closed loop in this dimension at those levels."
I smiled. "That's what he said. Is there anything else you can tell me?"
"Yes," Magnolia said, exchanging a brief glance with them before continuing. "The divination seemed to indicate that you would…change over the course of your life."
"Why is that significant? Everyone changes."
"No dear, your gift. It will continue to evolve, to manifest. You may discover…new abilities. Or it may change the way you see, the way you experience, the Fabric itself. We are uncertain on these points."
"Fantastic," I said, swallowing hard again. "Anything else?"
"I'm afraid you know as much as we do now," Magnolia and Melody spoke together, creating a strange mix of southern and eastern accented harmonies.
"Well," I sighed. "What are you going to do about Aislinn? She still killed someone you know. And not just one of our own. I think she killed two of the men who murdered her sister. She's probably going to finish the third."
Their thoughts tightened, interlaced for a moment. "We don't know," Susannah answered. "The magic in the first book was removed for a reason. It is dangerous, irresponsible, unpredictable."
"What did she tell you?" Jane Anne asked. "What does she want?"
"I don't really know. Something about remaking the world in our, her, image. Why did you do it? Bind her sister's memory?"
Susannah nodded sadly. "We thought it would be easier for her. To not dwell on things we could not change."
I rubbed at my eyes. "That wasn't your right. You had no right to do that."
"We are the council. We have our reasons. And we are not bound to share them with you." They answered in unison. Our brief peace had just passed.
"Ok, but there is one more thing. I understand we have rules. I understand the purpose of guarding our secrets. Of protecting ourselves. But regardless of the consequences, I'm going to reveal myself based on my own good judgment."
I felt Antoinette snigger behind me.
A low murmuring of conversation passed between them. They finally answered with a sort of mutual shrug. "You will do what you feel you must."
"Newton," Magnolia said, turning to face her. "Since Aislinn is clearly on her own now, by rights, the seat is yours."
I looked down at the floor. Pretending to be studying my shoes.
"No," I heard her reply. "Thank you council members. I believe I can best serve our world by remaining with my coven."
This was a first. Maybe in our history. Someone turning down a seat. When I told Newton about the divination, what Aislinn had said, she seemed worried. Not for them, but for me. I hoped she wasn't giving up what she wanted. I looked over at her. Her eyes were confident, not sad. She gave me a reassuring nod. I smiled back. I guess that was enough for now.
…
The black horse rounded the barn. It stopped at the open gates, stood there staring at me. Then raised up and ran full speed in my direction. I shuffled back through the first round of fencing, then slowed as I noticed its rider.
"Hey! Virginia, what are you doing here?"
Oscar flew off the saddle and walked toward the fence, his horse following. A blur of spots and a half-burglar-masked pup dashed up next to him.
"Hi Chulo," I said, greeting his dog first. Hoping he would also give me a second chance. "Hi Oscar. I hope you don't mind that I stopped by."
"Not at all. I told you I'd show you how to ride sometime. Though I got the idea you weren't really interested in taking lessons from me. Or having anything to do with me again. I haven't heard from you in a while."
I blushed. "I'm really sorry about all that. And dropping off the proverbial grid. I had a lot going on. I apologize."
He took a deep breath and studied me for a long second. "S'ok. Better late than never. You're forgiven," he said and smiled. I smiled too.
"Well, I'm not here for lessons. Not yet anyway. Who is this?" I asked of the horse nudging his shoulder.
"This is Coco. Coco Butter. One of our quarter show mares."
I put my hand out for her to sniff. She put her nose out then shook her head violently. I squeaked and pulled my arm back over the fence.
"Whoops! Sorry about that. She's a bit of a princess. Aren't you girl?" he ran his hand down her long smoky black neck. Which she seemed to love. If I had to guess, I'd say Coco liked Oscar as much as I did. Maybe a little more.
"Wait…how did you get through the front gates? Security isn't supposed to let anyone but employees back here." He eyed me suspiciously.
"Well…I can be very convincing when I put my mind to it." I grinned.
He laughed. "That, I do not doubt. So…you're not out here for lessons, and as far as I know, you don't own a horse, so what are you doing out here?"
"Well, I wanted to apologize. And say hello."
He cocked his head. "You came all the way out here to say that. And hello. You could've just knocked on my door. You know where I live."
"I wasn't sure when I'd catch you again. And besides, do you ever have the feeling you just need to talk to someone right away? Get something off your chest? So to speak."
"Sure. I call it compulsive verbal retching."
I frowned.
"Or just communication."
I laughed.
"There you go," he said. "Laughing suits you. It's nice to hear. So, what's on your mind?"
"Oscar, I know things got a bit weird. But I'd like a second chance with you, if you're willing. You were right, we did take it too fast. And I needed to," I paused. Telling Oscar about my father, about that night, and how I had been harboring so much guilt, well it would be a bit much. Guilt is a curious thing; like a virus that never quite leaves you. And I could still feel mine. But I needed to tell Oscar what I was. Whether or not Oscar accepted me for what and who I was, was almost irrelevant. But he needed to know. He deserved to know. "Well, I needed to deal with something. And I have…mostly," I said and smiled over the fence at him. "Is there somewhere we can talk? I need to tell you something."