Majyk Reborn (Skazka Chronicles Book 2)

by Valia Lind

  "She's evil!" Devra snaps, her body tense and ready for a fight. "This vile cat proves that fact even if her own history didn't. We know what he is and what she is."

  "The cat is mine," I snap, eyes flashing. The unfamiliar sense of protectiveness rushes over me, earning me some weird looks. It's strange to me too, if I'm being honest. This bond is not a typical thing. But then again, nothing about me is.

  "Kocshei Besmertnii's blood runs in my veins and Kot Bayun comes with that particular package." I speak the words without hesitation, because these are soldiers and they are trained to process information. The time for sugar coating things has come. Devra doesn't react, but Lana stumbles back into Rus, who's gaping at me as if I've lost my mind. Which could be closer to the truth than I'd like.

  "There is a prophecy," I continue, when no one speaks up, "I'm smack dab in the middle of it. Powerful majyk resides in me and it will help us get Skazka back. I am still the same person you've grown up with, just a bit upgraded. I hope you will follow my lead."

  The boys have stood as quiet pillars of support at either side of me and even now, I can feel their steady presence at my back. Baba Yaga has been watching the exchange quietly and I wonder what she's thinking. Without a doubt, she's proud of who she is, it's in every single one of her movements. But she's also allowing me to handle this, which is difficult for her, I'm sure.

  "There is one thing that I have never doubted about you," Devra is the one to speak up and I expected her to, "your loyalty to this land. You were ready to marry William because it was your duty. I believe you'll do whatever it takes to ensure our future, so yes. I will follow your lead. Always."

  She looks over at Rus and Lana and when I meet their eyes, they nod in affirmation. Just like that, we're a unit once again. Maybe I shouldn't be so surprised by this, but I am. Typically, you don't expect people to stay when they find out terrible things about you. But they have. They followed me out of the castle, and they're about to follow me back in.

  "Baba Yaga has knowledge about Vasilisa we don't have," I begin, motioning toward the enchantress. "And she is powerful in majyk in the way that we are not. We will work together." There is no argument in my tone and they take that at face value. I can still see Devra throwing looks at Kot Bayun, but she has put her sword down.

  "Okay, then what's next?" This comes from Rus.

  "First, we tend to those wounds," Baba Yaga speaks up, coming forward. "Those are some nice speeches you girls throw around. It's so touching."

  "Your sarcasm is noted," I snap, turning to her. "Can you help Lana?"

  "I can."

  "But you're not a healer." Rus comments, holding Lana closer to his body.

  "Maybe not, but I am a very powerful volshebnitsia. What?" She smiles at the shocked faces in front of her. "You didn't think you have an ownership on that particular title, did you?"

  "But you're evil." Lana says, and every time someone mentions that word, a pang resounds in my chest. I know they don't mean anything by it, but it's still an awareness that lives under my skin.

  "Yes, and you're blonde. What does one thing have to do with the other when it comes to majyk?"

  They all look at her as if she's lost her mind and I can see why. We have been told from birth that volshebnitsi are powerful majycians of good majyk and nothing else. It's difficult to reconcile the fact that what you've been told may not be true.

  "Majyk isn't one dimensional, dearest." Baba Yaga continues, walking back over to her hut and motioning for us to follow. They look at me for direction, so I turn and lead the way in. "Majyk can be anything we chose for it to be. We just have to actually make a choice."

  It feels like that last part is directed at me, even though she's not looking at anyone but Lana. We step inside the house and she motions for the bed. Rus settles Lana on the soft mattress, as Baba Yaga walks over to stand in front of her.

  "Majyk is just that. Majyk. I'm not afraid of it and if that makes me evil, then so be it." Her lips curl into a smile and I realize that's the bottom line. We are taught to fear our majyk, because fear controls. The moment we let go, we become uncontainable.

  That's what I'll have to become if we are to win this fight.

  22

  There isn't a way around this. We all know what needs to be done, but it doesn't make it any easier. Leaving Jemma and Lana behind was the right choice. Baba Yaga may have worked her majyk but Lana needs to recover. She is still more than capable of protecting my friend and I'm not worried about her, in that house, sitting right next to the Ancient's graveyard. If it doesn't protect them, the majyk of our ancestors will.

  It's Maxwell who surprised me. I've never seen such emotion from him, not the kind I saw when he was saying goodbye to Jemma. Gone was the genius, and all that was left behind was the man who cares deeply.

  I move back, falling into step beside him, neither one of us saying a word. It feels like ages since we've been like this, since we've talked about anything at all. Maxwell was always the one I came to when I was younger, because he has the wisdom of an older brother I so desperately craved. Now, I need it more than ever.

  "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" I whisper, but I know he hears me. His head swivels in my direction, his eyes already full of contemplation.

  "I think it's your only choice."

  "That's not the same thing." There are tears at the back of my eyes, because I never know what I'm doing. I never know if my decisions will cost more lives or if I may actually make a difference. And with all the unknown, my friends are still following me into the battle.

  "Cali," he begins, reaching out a hand and halting our walk. He glances at the rest of the party farther ahead, waiting for them to be out of earshot. "I've watched you for months now, struggling with yourself in a way I couldn't understand. Then, you tell me about the prophecy, you bring in her as your ally, and you walk us straight into war."

  I cringe at his words but he doesn't mean for them to be accusatory. His eyes are full of emotion and it has nothing to do with anger or pity.

  "Do I wish you told us earlier? Yes. Because we could've helped. Do I understand why you didn't? Also, yes. I can't imagine what it feels like to have your destiny decided for you." He stops for a second, his gaze far away and I think that maybe he does know. His future with Jemma is already preordained because of who they are. I place my hand on his arm in comfort, and he shifts his eyes back to me with a small smile.

  "I imagine it can't be easy, holding all this majyk inside of you. Knowing what it can do. I think being here in Skazka has helped you balance it better, and maybe accepting your past has as well. What Vasilisa has been doing is unacceptable. So if you have to go all evil queen on her, then I will stand by you. I—we—will always stand by you. You're family."

  The tears I've been holding back spill over, my chest tight with all the emotions I don't know how to express. Reaching for him, I fall into his arms, holding on for dear life.

  Going evil, turning into the monster of my childhood bedtime stories, it's the worst kind of a fear. But more and more I'm learning that I'm not alone. I have never been alone. Each of them have told me, in their own way, that they trust me to lead. Why can't I seem to trust myself then? Why am I second guessing every possible decision to a point where I can't even recognize the decision I was trying to make?

  All of the emotions I've been feeling the last few days bottle up inside of me and then I'm gasping. A pain starts up in my hip, right where that strange tattoo appeared when I first touched the journal all that time ago. The pain seems to spread from that one point, radiating into me.

  "Cali?" Maxwell's grip on me tightens and I hear his voice somewhere too far away to read it. Majyk assaults me from every angle, bursting from the inside out. There is a thud and I hear a yelp, before I'm cocooned in a warm, soft blanket. My limbs relax and I feel like I'm floating. Then, the pain comes and with it the dark void.

  When I open my eyes, the darkness is all around me, weighin
g me down like a heavy blanket. Once again, I'm two people at once. I'm the me in the room and I'm the me watching from above. In the memory, because I'm guessing that's what this is, even though I haven't had one in a while, I'm sitting in the corner of a pitch black room. My knees are pulled up to my chest, my chin resting on top. I look small and scared. More so than I ever imagined myself to be.

  Something happened. Something has pushed me, has brought me here. But for the love of me, I can't remember what it is. It's frustrating to know that even though I now know who I truly am, there are still parts of my life missing. I still have no idea who took my memories or why. But now that I have the full knowledge of my powers and have accepted them, maybe I can guide myself into my memories and withstand the pain.

  As I look at my past self, huddled in the corner, my consciousness tries to figure out the answers behind the questions, but I get nothing. After what seems like an eternity, the past me finally stands, slowly moving up the wall, feeling her way around the room. There is a tentativeness to her, mine, movements and I wonder if something terrible has brought her here.

  After she walks the whole length of the room, she comes back to the corner, leaning her back against it, but she doesn't take a seat. It's weird to be watching this as an outsider. I feel almost suspended from my body, as if this is a movie and not my life. It's not a movie I would pay to see. This past version of myself, she's weak. I don't ever want to be weak.

  Turning away from the image below, I try to guide myself to something else. Anything else. None of what I'm seeing is helping me. At all. I have so many questions and Brendan or Maxwell cannot help me with this. Maybe that's what brought me here, all of the emotions that have been warring inside of me. I'm not ready for what I know is to come. I'm not ready to take my place as the most evil of all of Volshebnitz.

  "But you are."

  The voice comes from behind me and I spin to find myself eye to eye with the past me. She's looking right at me, and not in the way that suggests that she's unaware of me. She's very aware and she's talking to me.

  "This is a safe place. You finally found it."

  "I don't understand," I say, unsure if I should even engage. Is my mind playing some kind of a trick on me? If only there was a manual to go along with life. I could use an index right now.

  "You did this. You created your own mesto, for your memories. For me."

  I study her, listening for deception in her words, looking for some kind of a sign that this is just some illusion. But I don't see anything. None of the warning signs are there. It's just me, talking to myself.

  "How?"

  "You're the most powerful wielder of the Ancient Majyks. You really can do anything." There's amusement in her voice and I realize that she's not weak. She's playing a part, and sometimes that part requires her to pretend to be something she's not. Something I'm not.

  "Why would I do this?"

  "Because no-one understands you the way you do. You knew what would happen when you crossed over. You knew what needed to be done. You made the choices that led you here. And only you can decide who you'll be from here on out."

  I roll my eyes, because I can't help it. "I'm so glad my past self is some freaking philosopher on steroids. Can't I just get some actual answers?"

  "Maybe if you ask the right questions."

  Grunting at that, I close my eyes and try to find the right words for this situation. Yelling at myself, or knocking some sense into me, isn't going to get us anywhere. I need to be smarter than my former self.

  "Why did I deem it necessary to create this place? And how is it still here?"

  "Your memories are a necessary tool in your journey. When you lost them, when they were replaced and made you into someone you weren't, this place went on lockdown. Without your memories, you were able to see for yourself for the kind of a person you are. But you knew that one day, you'll need all the cards on the table. Not just the hand that you picked up. That's where I come in."

  "So how did I end up here now? I didn't say or chant any special words."

  Now it's my past self who looks annoyed with my words. It really is super weird to see the emotions play out on my face. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time.

  "The tattoo on your hip is a key. You must have come to an understanding with yourself and the tattoo opened up the next door you needed to walk through. It has always been a key to a lot more than you can imagine."

  "Well, at least that makes sense." I turn away, trying to wrap my mind around what I'm hearing. There is definitely a lot more information stored inside of me than I thought. But I gather that's true for most people anyway. Even normal people. But there's still a big part of me that's questioning the biggest elephant in the room.

  "But how did I know? How could I have known my memories would be gone?" I finally ask, almost holding my breath for the answer.

  "It was all part of the plan."

  That is not what I was expecting. She says it calmly, matter of fact, in a way I never even imagined myself speaking.

  "What do you mean it was part of the plan? Who's plan?" The dread that is a constant companion to me these days rears it's ugly head full swing. I don't want to hear the answer, as much as I do.

  "Yours, of course," the past me replies. "You never shy away from what needs to be done. This is no exception."

  All air leaves my lungs at her words. After all this time, after all that we've thought we knew, I now have the one piece of information we've been so desperate to find. I did this to myself. I am responsible for my own memory loss.

  When I come back to my senses it's as if I've been drowning underwater and have now taken my first full breath. I realize that I'm surrounded by fur and that's when the thud and the yelp made sense. Kot Bayun must've pushed Maxwell away, before curling into a protective ball around me.

  "Cal? Cal, can you hear me?"

  Brendan's voice reaches me, full of panic. I think he's on the verge of going hand to hand with this giant beast if he doesn't get to me soon.

  "I'm okay," I gasp, my voice coming out hoarse. I may have been screaming.

  "I'm okay, let me go," I speak to the cat. There's a second of hesitation, as if he's weighting my words for truth, before he unfurls himself. When a small area opens up, Brendan rushes through, catching me in his arms before I can fall.

  "What happened?" He mumbles into my hair, holding me close.

  "A memory. I forgot how draining they can be." My voice I muffled against his chest and I take comfort in his nearness, allowing the memories to fall into place.

  I remember the conversation with Cornelius and how I ran from him and from the truths he told me. How I searched for my father but was summoned and brought before the queen before I could find him. I was put into isolation by the council in preparation for my mission. Brendan snuck in to my room that night, promising to meet me, so I didn't have to do this alone. We fought and I pushed him away, desperate to protect him from the likes of me.

  Then, the council was there and it was time. Crossing into the human realm with the orb required special majyks and that's why it was a huge process, instead of just a quick jump that the orb would provide on its own. I'm not sure where the idea came from as I was standing in that room, preparing to walk through the rift they were about to open. But I called on the majyk inside of me, asking it for the protection, for guidance. For a vault I could store my memories into. I decided I wasn't going to be controlled by anyone. Not my past, not the blood that runs through my veins, or the royalty.

  My majyk reacted to the one flowing from the council and when it activated it counteracted with the council's spell, and I was in the human realm, slowly losing parts of my memory, racing to find the keeper before it was too late. I didn't expect the memory loss, but when I felt it coming, I decided to use it for my advantage.

  Yes, the council took my memories, but it was my fault they disappeared in the way they did. Maybe I could've done something differently, maybe I coul
d've done everything the same. Now I never know, but at least I have a better understanding of what I'm capable of. Pushing back from Brendan, I reach for my dress, pulling it up to expose the tattoo. He watches me steadily, keeping himself from moving. I realize I exposed more of myself than I thought and pull the dress down a little. He swallows visibly, before averting his eyes.

  "The tattoo is a key," I say, smiling to myself. Didn't know I could make Brendan this uncomfortable with just a little skin. He jerks towards me at my words, confusing written on his face. "I'm not sure where it came from, but I used it as a key for my memories. I knew I was losing them, so I put the special ones under lock and key."

  "That's what you remembered."

  I nod, "Yes, I found my own unique mesto with a much more interesting version of myself."

  "I highly doubt that."

  We hear the others moving around, just on the other side of the cat that has stretched out around me in a crescent moon position. He's staying close and my friends are not about to come any closer. Except for Brendan. I look up at him, studying that strong chin and those gorgeous eyes. He will always risk everything to get to me.

  He narrows his eyes at my look, processing the information I gave him, but he doesn't question me farther. He's waiting me out, like he's learned to do. I run my hand over his cheek, his breath catching, before I can stop myself. The puzzlement turns into heat in his gaze and my own body flames in response. Shaking himself, he jumps to his feet, pulling me with him.

  "At this rate, Vasilisa will have the kingdom on their knees, before we get there," Baba Yaga comments as we step out of Kot Bayun's safe cocoon. I glare at her, but don't reply, turning my attention to my friends. My eyes land on Maxwell and I breathe easier instantly.

  "You okay?" I ask.

  "Sure. Being a big cat's toy is just part of my repertoire now. No sweat." He shrugs and when I don't notice any visible injuries, or detect any lies in his words, I breathe easier. "Are you okay?"