Banshees Stand Together
"How's he doing?" Amelia asked over her shoulder to Cat, who rode on the staff behind her. Cat looked over and, though Amelia couldn't see it, her lips tightened with concern.
"About the same?" she guessed.
"Better than worse," Amelia said, trying to be positive.
All three of the frontline Banshees, and their guest, were headed for the Van Aken manor to try to hide the boy Boscha had introduced to them as Jasper, the Golden Guard, from the very coven that he was supposed to be leading. Amelia and Cat had been asked by Boscha to serve as lookouts during some crazy wild-magic rite to glean information from the mind of Emperor Belos … and what Boscha, Jasper, and the human Luz had seen was clearly anything but pleasant.
When they had finished, Luz had been shaken so much that Hunter Wittebane had to escort her from the site, Boscha had been in tears, and Jasper … Well, the poor guy had been wailing his heart out before he just … stopped responding.
"We're almost there!" Amelia called, reaching up to pet her palisman Jewel. "Boscha, do you have the security covered?"
"I've got it covered," Boscha replied, her voice hoarse as she steered her staff and held Jasper on from behind. She traced a spell circle and flicked her wrist to cast two of the spells to settle around her own palisman, Maya, and around Jewel. They flew toward the stone wall that surrounded the manor and passed with a ripple through the protective wards that surrounded the property to land on the spacious front lawn.
Maya and Jewel shrunk into their true forms as the witches dismounted, Boscha catching the unconscious Jasper as they did and stubbornly hiking him into a princess carry. "Let's get inside," she said, seemingly unaffected by the weight of a taller, leanly muscular boy witch. Say what you would about her attitude, Boscha was tough as nails.
Amelia and Cat watched their backs as they all got into the house. Amelia rushed to close the blinds of the living room while Bocha settled Jasper onto the couch with far more tenderness than either of her friends had ever seen from her before she bonded with Maya. Boscha grit her teeth before turning to Cat with a three-eyed glare … and stepping back, gesturing impatiently at Jasper's sleeping form.
"C'mon, Cat," she said sourly, crossing her arms. "You're the medic. Just … Just see what you can do."
Cat nodded and sat on her knees to get a closer look. She very carefully lifted one of Jasper's eyelids to examine the tiny veins in his sclera, noting the vibrant red of his iris that was different from the magenta of Hunter. She couldn't help but draw comparisons between the two as she opened Jasper's mouth and examined the back of his tongue, noting no gap between his front teeth. She checked his breathing at the nose, his pulse at the throat and wrist, and his temperature at the forehead. Then she traced a spell circle above his head, wide as her spread fingers, and ran it over his body from the crown of his head to the toes of his boots and back up, her eyes glazed with blue magic.
"He's in shock," she reported, shivering at the sensation of a diagnosis spell as she stood up and began taking off Jasper's boots. "Whatever he experienced must have been pretty traumatic to cause this kind of reaction."
"Traumatic," Boscha sneered. "Yeah, that's one word for it."
"What did you see in there?" Amelia asked from in front of the fireplace, where she had gotten a strong blaze going.
Boscha curled in on herself, her eyes growing distant and her lips tightening. Her breathing grew more labored as beads of sweat rolled down her face. Just before she could begin hyperventilating, Cat placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear.
"Boscha, focus on my grip," she said, her voice level and calming. "Feel it, concentrate on it. Let everything else fade away."
Boscha grabbed for Cat's hand and squeezed, her lips peeling back to bare her teeth as she took a long breath in and then hissed it out. In and out. In and out.
"Thanks," she wheezed, and relaxed. "Titan, girls. It was-" Another deep breath. "It was messed up." She looked over at Jasper as he twitched in his sleep, whimpering like an injured animal. "And it's his business. I don't know if I should say anything."
"You're thinking about hurting someone's feelings?" Amelia asked, crossing her arms. "You? Boscha van Aken, the queen bitch of Hexside."
"I'm offering respect to someone who's been through way worse than any of us," Boscha said firmly. "Except that Hunter guy. He was the Golden Guard before Jasper." She offered a wane, dark smile. "I knew it."
"Well, what can you tell us?" Cat asked. "There's gotta be something."
Boscha was quiet for a while until she nodded. "It's about the Day of Unity," she began.
And so Boscha told them what she could about the brothers Wittebane, humans who had come to the Boiling Isles by chance. She told them about their different ways to adapt to the Isles — Caleb with love and acceptance, Philip through cold-blooded research. She told them about the ill-fated expedition and Philip's first contact with the Titan, about his desire to purge wild magic from the land by any and every means necessary. She told them about the first Golden Guard and the portal.
"So all of the Golden Guards were descended from Caleb?" Cat asked. "Wow. That's pretty messed up."
"Am I the only one who noticed the name 'Clawthorne'?" Amelia asked. "That's Eda the Owl Lady and Madame Lilith's last name! Do you think they're-?"
"It doesn't matter right now," Boscha said dully. "Girls … he's gonna kill everyone. Wild magic is the only thing he cares about. Not us, not the Titan … It's all a means to an end for him."
"So he never cared about Hunter," Amelia said in a horrified whisper.
"Or him," Cat said, gesturing at Jasper. "No wonder he freaked out so bad. I'd probably be worse if I learned everything I knew was a lie."
"It is worse," Boscha said. "But that's his call, not mine." She shook her head and stood up. "Anyone hungry?"
"You can cook?" Cat asked.
"No," she sneered. "But I know Amelia can." She pointed at her friend. "The pantry is open. Use whatever you like."
Amelia glanced between Boscha and Jasper before nodding and heading for the kitchen. Boscha and Cat heard pots and pans as they sat in silence for a little while. Cat glanced at Jasper and narrowed her eyes as she noticed his breathing was faster than she would have expected. Not hyperventilating or nightmare-fast, but … Hmm.
She stood up and snapped her fingers right next to Jasper's ear, and the boy flinched and looked at her with wide eyes.
"Whoa," Boscha commented. "That wasn't magic."
"Not to be mean or anything," Cat said to Jasper, "but how much did you hear?"
"Most of it," Jasper said, his voice ragged. He eased into a sitting position and removed his boots, which Cat collected to place by the door. He held his face in his hands and deemed to shrink in on himself.
Boscha fiddled with her fingers in a distinctly un-Boscha fashion, the usually confident and abrasive girl struggling with what to do next. She groaned and massaged her temples before asking through gritted teeth, "Do you want to talk? About anything that happened."
"Not really," Jasper said gruffly. He began scratching at the sleeve over his coven sigil, the mark he knew was there, like a rash. "What's the point? I'm technically not even a damn year old and all my memories are fabricated from his." He said the word like poison. "I wasn't meant to exist and Belos would toss me aside given the slightest excuse." He huffed a bitter laugh, tears welling in his eyes as he grinned almost manically and held out his hands. "What there to talk about, right?!"
Jasper grunted as his lap was suddenly full of witchling and his face pressed into Boscha's chest. He held her waist on sheer instinct and tried to piece together what the hell had just happened. As he did … he began to calm down? What was happening?
What had happened was Boscha had taken a page from her mother's book. On occasion as she grew up, whenever Joen had gotten so stressed from work that he began to panic, she had seen Alyet sit him down on the couch, settle in his wide lap, and hold his face to her heart to calm him down. That had usually been followed by her mother leading her father to their bedroom, and Boscha had long realized what that meant to her neverending disgust.
"What are you doing?" Jasper asked, his face turned to the side to speak clearly.
"Calming you down," Boscha said simply. "Is it working?"
"Uh …" Jasper thought about it. "Yeah. Kinda."
"Then shut up and enjoy it," Boscha grumbled, idly stroking Jasper's hair. She looked up at the feel of eyes on her and found Amelia and Cat watching with crinkled eyes and small, damning grins.
"Not a word," Boscha growled.
"I already shut up," Jasper said with confusion.
"Not you," she sighed and held him tighter to her.
When Jasper had calmed down and everyone had eaten the passable grilled sandwiches that Amelia had whipped up, along with grilled vegetables to keep with the theme, Jasper had decided to get everything off his chest. It had taken almost an hour and a few brushes with panic attacks, but he'd managed.
"Mother Titan's Milk," Amelia said blankly.
"Amelia!" Cat gasped, her cheeks red from such profanity.
"Holy Titan, girl," Boscha said warily, eying her with surprise.
"Do you disagree?" Amelia asked, an eyebrow arched.
"I don't, but still."
Jasper sat curled over a glass of apple blood, frowning in contemplation. The Banshees all looked at each other, searching for ideas on how to help him. "So what's the plan?" Amelia asked.
"There is no plan," Jasper said. "Except, hopefully, stop Belos from enacting the Day of Unity." He curled his nails against the rich wood of the dining table. "Every Golden Guard turned against Belos. I suppose I'm the last in that line." He sighed and relaxed his grip. "But only Hunter and I have survived. I have no idea what to do."
"I bet the Owl Lady would take you in," Cat suggested.
"No," Jasper said, his tone brooking no argument. "My ortet is there, and I won't live in his shadow."
"You think you can debate this?" Amelia asked pointedly. "You don't exactly have a lot of options."
"He can stay here," Boscha said, her cheeks pinking even as her expression remained focused, verging on angry. "My parents are out of town for business, so no one will notice. And the Emperor's Coven will have no reason to look for you here."
"That's reasonable," Amelia said neutrally, then she grinned. "Almost like you had it planned ahead of time."
"Shut up, 'Meal," Boscha said through gritted teeth and a grimacing smile.
"Thanks," Jasper said. "I'll, uh- I'll do what I can to earn my keep."
"Oh, please," Boscha said, gesturing to the room at large with its hand-carved furniture, expensive paintings, and other high-class decor, "does it look like we need that?" She smirked and drummed her nails. "I think helping us out with grudgby practice will suffice, though."
"Uh, right. Sure," Jasper said, sounding much less sure at the look on her face.
There was a short awkward silence before Cat raised her hand. "Do you happen to know anything about grimwalkers?" she asked hesitantly. "Since, you know, you are one?"
"I've never come across the word before."
"I've heard of them," Cat said. "But just in passing. Maybe I could get some books from Hexside if they have some."
"And we should probably stay the night, anyway," Amelia tacked on. "Since our parents already think we're all having a sleepover."
"Fine, whatever," Boscha replied, her eyes narrowed in thought. She took a moment to register the quiet and looked up to find both of her friends looking at her expectantly with identical mischievous smiles while Jasper watched uncomfortably. "What?"
"What's your dad's rule about sleepovers?" Amelia asked innocently.
"Especially when he and your mom aren't here?" Cat asked in the exact same tone.
Boscha stared blankly before she realized what they were getting at and scowled. "You can't be serious," she said lowly.
"Very," they said in perfect sync, their smiles unchanging.
"Dammit, fine," Boscha snarled, scooting back in her chair to stomp away.
"What, uh," Jasper fumbled. "What was that about?"
"Mr. Joen, Boscha's dad, is really big on hospitality," Amelia said. "He insists on making up the guest rooms for us himself if we sleep over. If he's not here, Mrs. Alyet grudgingly does it because she's a secret softie for her husband. And if neither of them are here, well …"
"Joen makes sure Boscha does it," Cat finished, grinning widely. "And she hates doing it. But she has a secret soft spot for her dad." Her grin fell and she pinned Jasper with a serious look. "Which you did not hear from us. You got that?"
"Sure," Jasper said. Was the outside world really this … crazy?
As it turned out, sleep would not be easy to come by.
Boscha tossed and turned on her bed as thoughts, memories, and worries like she'd never felt tumbled in her head without mercy. For the umpteenth time that night, she groaned in frustration and turned over again to get comfortable. Not that it helped any more than any of the times before. The fact that her sheets felt too hot to relax didn't help either.
"Screw this," she spat and threw off her covers. She stomped out of her room — uncaring about her sleepwear of a tight, pastel yellow crop top and short shorts — and down the hallways toward her parents' room to do something she'd only ever done before major tests and one grudgby final: raid the medicine cabinet for homebrewed sleeping draught. As a student of potions steeped in the art since before she'd attended Hexside, she knew how addictive pain-numbing and sleeping potions could be, and so had only ever taken some when it felt like no other choice.
As she grumbled incoherently and rubbed the sand from her eyes, she heard the meaty sound of impact from further down the hall. She paused and blinked, listening carefully, and heard it again. She backtracked and looked down a hallway to find light from an open door pouring out, along with the louder sounds of impact and grunts of exertion.
She walked confidently, but quietly, down to the doorway to the family workout room — which, admittedly, she and her mom got way more use out of than her dad — to find Jasper in her dad's borrowed cloth shorts for sleepwear, whaling on a punching dummy as if it had done him personal harm. He was coated in sweat, his chest and arms gleaming with it, and his expression twisted with almost murderous anger as he continued to punch the dummy with exquisite technique and less mercy than her own intrusive thoughts.
So consumed in whatever this was, Jasper missed his footing and slipped on thin air, falling and catching himself on the dummy as he caught his ragged breath.
"Thanks," he said to the dummy with the self-aware drawl of someone who believes themself to be completely alone to indulge in levity. She'd recognize it anywhere, having done so many times herself in this very room. "Kinda feel bad beating you up now," he continued with a mirthless chuckle.
"Can't sleep?" Boscha asked, arms crossed.
Jasper flinched so hard he almost fell over and whirled around to face her with wide eyes. "Ms van Aken," he stammered, then visibly collected himself and saluted. Actually saluted, as if he were back in the Emperor's Coven!
"Sorry to disturb you, Miss," he said rigidly. "I'll return everything to its place and retreat to my quarters immediately."
"Not without a shower, you won't," Boscha smirked and began to leave. "Come with me, soldier."
She smiled to herself at the sound of Jasper's measured steps behind her and resumed her course to her parents' bathroom. She dug around until she found the sleeping draughts and turned to face Jasper. "I'll get some more of my dad's clothes for you," she said and gestured at the luxury-class showers. "Wash up."
She left and dug into her dad's dressers, taking out whatever she found that may fit Jasper's comparatively lanky build. It had been tough the first time and now she was too exhausted to care. When she had the clothes, she sat and looked over the potion bottle to make sure she remembered the directions.
"Miss?" Jasper asked, almost tentatively, and she looked up to find him mostly dried with his lower half wrapped in a towel. Boscha flushed before scolding herself to get a grip, and stood to toss him the shorts. "Get dressed," she said shortly. Jasper closed the door and less than a minute later was back out in an oversized shirt and with the shorts cinched tight.
"Miss van Aken-" Jasper said.
"Just call me Boscha," she sighed, crossing her arms again and jutting her hip in the picture of an impatient teenage girl. "You're a teenager. Act like it."
"Right," he said, and knelt to one knee, his head bowed. "Thank you, Boscha. For providing me with shelter."
Boscha couldn't help but blush, even as she scoffed and hauled him to his feet by his arm. "Knock it off. You're making me feel old."
"Sorry," Jasper replied, looking into her eyes.
They stayed there for a moment, Boscha's hand smoothing over Jasper's chest. Neither spoke for a moment until Boscha cleared her throat and looked away. She took a dose of the sleeping draught, lips twisted with distaste. "Here," she said, pouring a double dose of the potion into a small cup and handing it to him. "Drink this. It'll help you sleep."
Jasper examined the potion critically before taking the bottle from her hand and reading the label with a discerning eye. He shrugged and took the dose, swallowing thickly in disgust. "Ugh, that's vile."
"I know," she said with a small grin. "Good night." Before she could make for the door, a warm hand slipped into hers, squeezing softly before letting go.
"Good night," he said.
Boscha looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. Then she turned her nose up in a practiced motion and left for her room. She kept it together until she locked the door, then stumbled into a chair and took deep breaths.
Titan, what was happening to her? Sure, Jasper was easy on the eyes, but he had no power anymore. He wasn't the Golden Guard, he was a grimwalker of a powerless witch, wanted by the throne. Granted, that might add some bad boy flair, but- No! She held her head in her hands and growled through her teeth.
She'd opened her home to a fugitive. And why? Because she knew his tragic backstory? Titan, she was worse than Amity!
The phantom sound of Jasper's heartbroken wails assaulted her ears and gripped her heart. The flashes of what Belos had done to the previous Golden Guards, how most of them had died. It would happen to Jasper if he were caught.
"Dammit, Daddy," she grumbled. "Are you happy now?"
Her father had always believed that the bitchy image she projected was a facade, a way to cope with fear or insecurity. He'd tried to talk with her about it more than once, to insist that she could be different. And now she was being … ugh, noble. Even kind. She crossed over to her bed as she felt the sleeping draught begin to take effect, wrapping herself in her covers.
"I'll handle this stuff tomorrow," she yawned and settled into a dreamless sleep.
Unbeknownst to her, the next few days would be pretty crazy. Dodging the human's friend brigade, figuring stuff out with Amelia and Cat, taking Jasper shopping for new clothes under a concealment stone provided by Edric Blight …
Then the Hexside invasion.
The Day of Unity and the attack she would volunteer for.
Everything would change.
But that would come later, after sleep …
Another tale to tell! I had originally planned to write this one much earlier, but other ideas took priority. Hope it was a good one! *If you have any ideas for closer looks or quick spin off concepts, leave a note - inspiration can come from anywhere!
*This chapter takes place immediately after Chapter Sixteen of "Strength."
*Amelia's curse is derived from Mattholomule's "Mother Titan" in "Labyrinth Runners" that seems synonymous with mother-f****r and a swear from the "Wheel of Time" franchise that is known for its unusual oaths and implied to be one of the worst, "Mother's milk in a cup." It always made me laugh. As does the idea that Amelia can curse like a sailor, even more than Boscha.
As always, I hope it was enjoyable! Leave a review if you like! And may your own works be fun to read and to write!