hello!

sorry i was gone so long!

for the small number of people who read my macbeth fanfiction-here is my latest story! this one follows macbeth's son, banner. he's fourteen and struggling to control his magic powers, which he got when lady macbeth possessed his mother while she was pregnant with him. his best friend is banquo's son, fleance, who is twelve. macbeth and banquo are still characters in the story, but not major ones. still, i really hope you like this story!

peace out!

-banner-

A light breeze rustles through my hair as I stand in front of my mother's grave, gazing at the words carved into the headstone. My hair falls into my eyes, obscuring my view, and I push it away to no avail. It just keeps growing. I can't really do anything about it.

The stormy gray sky thunders overhead, promising rain. I shiver and pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders, reaching up to grab the hood and pulling it up over my messy dark hair. I don't know why I'm standing by Mother's grave—I never knew her. She died of the plague when I was two weeks old. My father remarried when I was three, and I've never thought of Mum as my stepmother. She's always been so kind to me.

Still, I can't help wondering what my biological mother was like. Dad describes her as being stubborn and fiery, willing to do anything for her husband and her baby son. He tells me that I have her eyes—wide and sky-colored with a hint of darker blue at the edges, long black lashes framing them. I do like my eyes, and it's nice to know that they came from Mother. I think it's the one part of her Dad has left, and he loves me all the more for that.

The rain begins to fall, and I turn away from the grave. I need to ride back to Inverness before Mum and Dad realize I'm gone. Saddling my horse, I ride out of the Dunsinane cemetery, being as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the dead. I try to ignore the headstone that moves about half an inch to the left as my horse trots past, wishing the Shift wouldn't get in the way of every little thing.

See, I have magic powers. We call it the Shift because I can somehow manipulate objects into moving, usually unconsciously. Dad says I've been doing it since I was a baby and he has no idea why. In the fourteen years I've been alive, it's never caused serious harm, so it's generally viewed as a benevolent power. The only person I've ever accidentally hurt is myself—I got mad once and had a brick fall and hit me on the head. I had a huge goose egg for like three weeks, but it wasn't that bad. I'm just glad there haven't been any more accidents—I've heard stories of how magic can go to someone's head and really mess things up.

When I reach Castle Inverness, I dismount and lead Excalibur, my stallion, into his stable. I love this horse—he's really smart, incredibly fast, and intimidating if he needs to be. I take care of him constantly and ride out into the highlands when I'm upset. Excalibur is my best friend, apart from my cousin Fleance, who I've known since he was an infant.

I walk through the courtyard of the castle, stopping beside the pool of water and looking down at my reflection. The water is stirred up by the rain, but I can see well enough to reflect on every negative aspect of my appearance. I'm rather absurdly short for my age, only five feet tall, and I'm constantly teased for it. I still have a little bit of baby fat, giving me chubby cheeks and a softer figure than other teenagers. It's not that bad, but I'd like it to go away. Dad told me that it took him at least eighteen years to grow out of his baby fat, though, so I'm not hopeful. The only parts of my reflection I don't really mind are my eyes, my shaggy, dark brown hair, and the light dusting of freckles on my pale face. Hopefully some girls think I'm cute, at least.

I head into the castle, pulling my hood down, then taking off my wet boots and placing them next to the front door. I hang my cloak up and pad softly up the stairs in my dark green tunic, ready to go take a warm bath. I always need one after going out in the cold.

On my way down the hall, though, Mum exits my little brother Ewan's room and just about crashes right into me.

"Banner!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around me and planting a kiss on my forehead. I smile as I breathe in her signature scent of heather and honey, allowing myself to be enfolded in the soft embrace. Mum is a short, plump woman with full cheeks, wide hips, and thick, dark curls. She's similar enough to me that it looks like she could have birthed me, which is a comfort. I don't always enjoy being the only half-adopted child, but Mum has never loved me less than my siblings, even though I'm not her son.

"Where did you go?" Mum asks worriedly, cupping my round face in her hands and studying it. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I mumble around her hands. "Just needed some air. I rode over to Dunsinane."

Mum sighs in relief and releases me. "Oh, good. I was afraid you'd gotten lost in the highlands."

"I don't get lost," I tell her with a faint smile. "Don't worry about me, Mum. I never go too far."

I traipse into the bathroom and turn on the tap, allowing the large stone bathtub to fill with hot, steaming water. When it's full, I pull off my tunic and climb in, sighing in content. I'm really glad I live at Inverness—it's not overly fancy, but it has a lot of luxuries.

When I'm done, I dry myself off and change into a new tunic, this one also dark green. It's my favorite color, just like my uncle Banquo's. I'm more like him than my dad, I think—both of us live to please the people we care about and see the big picture, while Dad is more spontaneous and detail-oriented. Still, I love my dad and he loves me.

Then there's my siblings—Calum, eleven; Heather, eight; and Ewan, four. They all love me, too—well, as much as your siblings can. Sure, we fight sometimes, but all siblings do. They've never said anything about how I'm not their biological brother.

On the surface, it seems like I have everything. Everything someone could ever want.

But I have so many questions—why do I have magic? I have to have gotten it somewhere. Did my mother's death have anything to do with it? And did she really die of plague? The disease had been mostly eradicated by the time I was born, and it seems unlikely that she was able to birth me and then pass away so soon after.

But why would Mum and Dad lie to me about something like that? They wouldn't keep that a secret—they know I don't like them to hold anything back, and they've always been utterly transparent with me. No, it can't be a secret. Why would they lie to me?

I sigh as I head downstairs to the dining hall, realizing that I've talked myself in a circle again. I do this every time I have questions.

Just like my dad, I have a fondness for sticky buns. I put several on a plate and sit down at the table, eating them as politely as possible.

"Hey, Banner," says a voice behind me. I turn to see Fleance leaning against the wall, his black hair tousled and his dark yellow tunic dirt-stained. "Sticky buns again?"

"Well, why not?" I ask, offering one to my cousin. Fleance steps forward and takes it, stuffing it whole into his mouth. I laugh and return to my plate. "What have you been up to?"

"Fixing the old well passageway. I had to make the exit smaller, since the boards were kind of wearing down. I doubt you could squeeze through it now."

"Hey!" I yelp. "I'm small!"

Fleance smirks. "Yeah, but you've got some padding—"

"It's only baby fat! And there's not even that much!" That's actually true, but Fleance will maintain the belief that it's not just for the sake of teasing me. Sometimes, I don't know how we're friends—but I wouldn't trade my cousin for the world. We've known each other since Fleance was a baby and I was two. Despite being two years younger, Fleance is maybe half an inch taller than me, with a small frame and wild black hair. His skin is slightly tanner than mine, and he has icy dark blue eyes that seem to penetrate into your soul. He likes fixing random things around the castle and doing stupid stunts—which he usually pulls off. Mine never work.

"Are you stressed?" Fleance asks, sitting down next to me.

"Why would I be stressed?"

"Well, your dad consumes an inordinate amount of sticky buns when he's stressed, and I thought it might run in the family."

I laugh and stuff the last sticky bun into my mouth. "Not stressed. Just hungry."

Suddenly, a large jug of sparkling strawberry juice sitting on the table tips over. I yelp and leap up to catch it, and I manage to save the jug, but most of the juice spills onto the floor.

"Stupid Shift," I mutter as I get up and place the jug back on the table. "Why does it have to—"

I let out another yelp as my plate whizzes over my head and slams into the wall, then falls to the floor. Luckily, it's a stone plate, so it doesn't break, but it still makes a loud crash.

"What's with you today?" Fleance asks. "You seem kind of…on edge."

I sigh and turn toward my cousin. "I went to visit Mother's grave earlier. I've been wondering why I have magic, and it's just kind of out of control today."

"Your dad said you were born with it," Fleance reminds me. "Maybe he doesn't know why."

"Yeah," I sigh. "Maybe not. But I just have this weird feeling that my parents are lying to me about something. "

"We should spy on them," Fleance says immediately. "We can see if they bring up your magic."

"But I don't want to—"

"Invade their privacy? Come on, Banner, if they're hiding something important to you, I think you have a right to know."

I sigh. "I think I do have a right to know, but I don't think they'd just bring up the Shift in everyday conversation."

"So ask them about it," Fleance replies. "They'll probably just tell you what they already have and then discuss it further by themselves. They'll probably talk about how to keep you from finding out and whether they should tell you anything."

"That's…actually a great idea," I reply. "Okay, I'll do it."

"Awesome. Let me know when you've talked to them."

We part ways, and I head back up the stairs to my parents' room. It's getting late, and I'm sure it's almost time for dinner. Hopefully they're still in their room.

Sure enough, when I cautiously push open the door, Mum and Dad are curled up on their bed together, talking quietly.

Dad looks up as I enter. "Hey, Banner. What do you need?"

"I just wanted to talk to you guys," I tell him, shutting the door behind me. "I need to ask you something."

"Go ahead," Mum invites, pulling me onto the bed.

"I was—I was wondering," I begin, "if you know anything about the Shift. I know I was born with it, but how? Was Mother magic? Did someone else give it to me? Are you magic, Dad?"

"I'm not," Dad laughs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I think I'd know. But no, your mother wasn't magic. And we've never been able to logically explain why you have the Shift. Are you having trouble controlling it?"

"I moved like three things today," I tell him. "I think it's getting worse."

"I'm sure we can figure it out," Mum soothes. "Maybe there's someone you can learn from to control it." She pulls me into a hug. "You'll be okay, Banner."

I smile as Dad joins the hug, knowing they want to be done with this discussion. They're definitely hiding something.

But what?

"Fleance," I hiss as I slide into my seat at the dinner table. "I talked to them—they obviously didn't want to say anything."

"Awesome," Fleance whispers. "Now we can spy on them."

"But they'll be mad," I whisper.

"Not if they don't catch us."

I sigh and bow my head as Dad says grace. When he's finished, the servants bring out the meal, and I eat the bread, fruit and cheese without really tasting it—I'm too preoccupied with my thoughts.

I'm positive my parents are hiding something—but how do I get them to tell me about it? Maybe spying is the only way.

When dinner is over, I help clear the plates and then exit the dining room with Fleance. Mum and Dad leave just before we do, and we follow them at a distance. They seem to be heading upstairs, so that's where we go. I assume they're going to their room.

When we reach the wall beside their room, though, Dad does a very strange thing. He presses on a stone in the middle of the wall, and a small tunnel opens up beneath it. I barely manage to hold back a gasp as Fleance pulls me behind a statue—the statue of Sinel, Dad's father. I watch in amazement as my parents climb into the tunnel, Dad stepping back to let Mum squeeze through first. After they're both inside, the stone slides back into place, and Fleance and I cautiously creep out of our hiding place.

"Did not see that coming," I whisper. "I didn't know about that secret passageway."

"I did," Fleance says somewhat smugly. "I found it a couple weeks ago. It goes to this little room with a bunch of weird staffs in it. Well, one of the tunnels does—it's like a maze."

"Should we follow them?" I whisper. "Will we get lost?"

"Nope," Fleance replies. "I've been exploring. We can escape down any of the tunnels. And if my instincts are correct, there's another entrance right here." He taps the base of the statue. "Let me just remember how to get into it…"

He climbs up onto the pedestal and presses the clasp on Sinel's tartan, and the statue turns, nearly falling off the stone, to reveal a small, round hole in the base.

Fleance drops feetfirst through the opening, and I follow him rather hesitantly. The statue grinds back into place above me, and I look up to see Fleance letting go of a lever.

"Come on," my cousin hisses. "Let's see where this goes."

Crouched on all fours, I crawl after Fleance into the cramped tunnel. I'm glad my cousin knows what he's doing—I wouldn't want to get lost in here.

After a few minutes, the faint voices of my parents reach my ears. They're hushed, despite being alone—or thinking they're alone—and fast, indicating that they want to get the conversation over with quickly.

"We haven't lied to him," Dad whispers. "He was born with the Shift. And it really can't be logically explained."

"No, we haven't lied," Mum agrees, "but we haven't told him the truth either. But how do you explain what happened to Skye? I worry that if—if he knows about it, Banner might—he might awaken the other part."

"That's not going to happen," Dad soothes. "He'd never do something like that."

Mum sounds like she's holding back tears. "Not on purpose—but what if something happened? What if he found this place?"

"He won't," Dad whispers. "I don't think Banner knows about most of the passageways. We'll just have to keep him from finding them."

My eyes widen in the darkness. What could be in that room that my parents don't want me to find?

"It'll be okay," says Dad's voice, and I hear the unmistakable sound of him kissing Mum. "Let's go back and help Ewan get ready for bed."

"This way!" Fleance hisses, and he turns down a side tunnel. I follow him, my palms stinging from the rough stone.

As we begin to crawl away, I hear Mum's voice. "Macbeth! I think someone is in the tunnels!"

"I'll check." I hear Dad crawl into the tunnel, and Fleance and I go faster. "Is anyone there?"

I freeze, and I can practically hear the suspicion coming from Dad. "No one I can see, love. We're safe."

My parents' footsteps—handsteps? They are crawling—fade away, and Fleance and I continue down the dark, twisting tunnel. This can't be the one we took before—it's much too long.

"Fleance?" I whisper. "Where does this one come out?"

"By the river that flows under the castle," Fleance says softly. "I'm pretty sure the exit is a grate, so no one can climb in from the outside."

After several minutes, we reach the end of the tunnel. Sure enough, there are wide-spaced bars placed over the opening. Fleance slides through easily and drops the few feet to the ground, and I start to follow him. But I only make it halfway through.

"Fleance!" I whisper, my soft voice almost a plaintive wail. "I'm stuck!"

Fleance turns and immediately snorts. "Seriously? Well, at least it didn't happen while we were sneaking through the tunnels."

"Get me out," I moan, still struggling to pull myself free. "Please?"

"Fine," Fleance says, rolling his eyes but reaching out and grabbing my shoulders. It takes several seconds of pulling, but I slowly come free of the bars. When I'm all the way out, I drop to the ground and then stand up.

"Thanks," I tell Fleance sincerely. "That could have been a lot worse. I'm sorry I haven't grown out of my baby fat yet."

Fleance laughs. "Don't worry. Just because I lost mine at least seven years ago doesn't mean you won't lose it soon."

I shove him playfully, and we head down the river. I can't believe someone managed to build Inverness over a moving body of water—that takes talent.

"What do you think was in that room?" Fleance asks as we reach the gate to the castle. "It has to have been something dangerous if they didn't want you to find it."

"I'm not sure," I reply. "I couldn't see much."

"From what I saw, it looked like absolutely nothing," Fleance says. "I could only see your parents' feet and stone walls—nothing even remotely dangerous." He sounds almost disappointed.

"Well, I'm glad there wasn't anything dangerous," I murmur. "I don't want my parents in a room like that. And did you hear what Mum said? She asked my dad how to explain 'what happened to Skye.' My parents are hiding something, Fleance. I don't think Mother died of plague."

"Well, of course," Fleance huffs. "I could have figured that out in a heartbeat. But you're right—I don't think they've told you everything."

"How do we find out what it is?" I whisper as we climb into another passage, one I'm pretty sure leads up to my room.

Fleance grins. "Keep spying."

"Or I could just ask them," I counter. "They might tell me if I asked what really happened to Mother."

"Or they might not."

"I'll ask them tomorrow," I laugh. "Don't worry. The worst they can do is say no."

"Mum," I ask hesitantly after lunch the next day. "Can I talk to you and Dad for a second?"

"Of course, sweetheart," she replies. "We can stay here in the dining hall. I'll get your father. Macbeth!" she calls. "Come over here! Calum, Heather, take Ewan outside. Don't go farther than the brook!"

My siblings barrel past me and out the door into the cloudy morning. Dad sits down on the opposite side of the table, and Mum takes a seat next to him.

"What is it, lad?" Dad asks. "Is it the Shift again? Has it been bothering you?"

"Not really," I mumble. "But…I just can't help feeling like you're holding something back. I don't know why—but I don't think Mother died of plague."

"Banner—" Dad sighs. "We should have known you'd find out."

"Find out what?" I whisper, my heart thundering beneath my ribs.

"Skye was a wonderful woman. A strong woman," my dad says softly, his voice cracking. "She would have done anything for you, Banner. But even she could not withstand Gruoch's power."

"Gruoch?" I ask, knowing I've heard the name somewhere before.

"My betrothed. Many knew her simply as Lady Macbeth. She was cruel and vicious, and her magic was powerful." Dad takes a deep breath. "Banner, Gruoch also possessed the Shift. But she could manipulate people as well as objects. She forced me to kill King Duncan and then somehow managed to reanimate herself when Skye killed her. After that, she—" Dad's voice breaks again. "She possessed Skye. Your mother died when we destroyed the staff tied to Gruoch's life force, because she was also tied to the magic. That's why you have the Shift, Banner—because when Skye became possessed, she was pregnant with you."

I don't know why, but my hands are shaking. "Why—why did you—"

Mum gently puts a hand on my shoulder. "Banner—"

"You could have told me," I say, my voice trembling. "Why did you lie?"

"We were afraid you'd awaken the part of the Shift that allows you to manipulate people," Mum whispers. "And we didn't want anyone to get hurt."

"You thought I'd use it?" I hiss, standing up from the table and running my hands through my hair. "Why would I ever do something like that?"

"We know you wouldn't," Dad soothes. "But sometimes magic can take control of you, make it so you don't know what you're doing. If you were ever angry or upset—"

"I'm angry and upset!" I shout. "You lied to me! You told me Mother died of plague! You never even tried to explain to me why I have magic that might try to kill everyone! Not why I have it, how to control it, anything!"

"Banner," Dad begins, standing up, but he never finishes. Something inside me has snapped, and I know I'm probably angrier than I should be—which is explained when I hear a loud crack.

The Shift explodes.

The ceiling of the dining room falls in.

Stone crashes to the floor, the whole ceiling all at once. The huge force throws me backward, and small pieces of broken rock slice across my bare skin as I hit the floor.

As soon as it's over, I lift my head, gasping and shuddering. Getting to my feet, I squint through the dust and see no sign of Mum and Dad.

I start to hyperventilate, my chest constricting. The Shift—I—did this.

I can't stay here. I'll just hurt more people.

So I turn and run, bolting to the stables and saddling Excalibur. He gallops off into the highlands, heading who knows where. I have no idea where we're going, I just know I have to get away from Inverness.

What have I done?