The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “Calm yourself, Lars. It isn’t what you think,” Linford inserted drolly. “My granddaughter brings chaos with her. Just consider her the Pandora of our time. She does what she oughtn’t and yet, she is the harbinger of change.”

  Daniel shifted on his feet, his wings rustling with displeasure. “This is nuts.”

  “He isn’t wrong,” I muttered, my eyes on the still whirring waterspout flittering about Lars’ palm like it was on LSD.

  “It isn’t crazy,” Gabriella denied. “You just don’t know your witch lore.”

  Lars’ brow puckered. “They might not, and their wings tell me why, but I do, Gabriella. Before you take my powers from me, at least explain—”

  “Take your powers from you?” Riel burst out, her eyes wide with horror. “That isn’t what we’re about to do!”

  “Hush, mija, you speak of what you don’t understand,” Gabriella chided.

  Riel’s nostrils flared. “No. No. Maybe I don’t understand,” she ground out, “and maybe I don’t because that’s your fault for leaving when you did. Instead of teaching me what I needed to know, you left. Abandoned me. Well, it was your loss too, because you missed out on watching me become a stubborn pain in the ass who knows her own mind.” She glowered at her grandmother, the two likenesses glaring at one another was like Riel standing in a mirror and frowning at herself.

  “I can attest to the fact she’s a stubborn pain in the ass,” Daniel chimed in, but his lighthearted joke, intended to break the stalemate, did little other than glance off the two females who made the term headstrong look weak.

  “You’d have him lose his powers over a hunch?” Riel spat. “We have no idea what we’re doing.”

  “Your tatarabuela told you to come here, said that the first families would know what to do—”

  “That isn’t enough. He looks like he’s waiting to die!”

  “I give my life and my power freely,” he whispered.

  “You don’t mean that,” I grated out.

  “A life without magic should be no life at all but I’d settle for a half-life to remain with my wife and son, that much is true,” Lars inserted calmly, and perhaps it was apropos that his words were like throwing water onto a fire—considering his gift, and all that. “But I must act as Gaia wills it.”

  Riel’s mouth flattened as she turned to him. “You knew, when we arrived, what we wanted?”

  “Of course.” He tipped his head to the side. “The families have long since spoken of a day when…” The water ceased to stir as he raised his hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps we should go inside? Where it’s less cold and more comfortable and I can explain?”

  Riel dipped her chin. “I’d appreciate that.” Before he could turn around, she grabbed his arm and, face to face, murmured, “I mean you no harm, Lars. Nor does my troupe or my family.”

  His gaze drifted over us. “They’re Fae. You’re Fae. You always mean my kind harm.”

  “Not this child,” Gabriella insisted. “She’s the change we’ve been waiting for.”

  “Pandora,” Linford muttered.

  Riel ignored them both. “I swear to you that I mean neither you nor your family any ill will.”

  Lars’ mouth softened a touch as his glance drifted over her features. “I believe you mean that.”

  The inference being that even if she meant it, he didn’t think she could keep to the vow.

  Riel faltered. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. Soon.” Lars cleared his throat. “Come, it’s brisk out here today. The weather is changing sooner than it should. It has been a wet summer, too wet even for my taste.” He peered up at the sky then grimaced as he set off for the doorway.

  Her anger with us apparently forgotten, Riel headed after him, only glancing back to connect with each of us. It reminded me of a duck keeping her ducklings in a row, and even though the notion should have irked me, it actually amused me.

  Matthew, Daniel, and I were the most powerful warriors of our class, and yet, here we were, being herded.

  Only a mate could ever put one in one’s place so thoroughly.

  Shaking off the amusement that was inappropriate at this time, I trudged after her. The ground outside was a bit like wet slurry thanks to a recent rainfall and the mud on the ground. As we stepped inside, there was a door straight ahead and a bench where Lars sat down to toe off his boots. Following his lead, we hovered, waiting our turn before we were all barefoot. By this point, he and Riel had already headed into a room that though open planned, was cozy.

  It also let me see, very quickly, where my woman was.

  One half of the space was dedicated to a kitchen. It looked like it belonged in a magazine with its scrubbed wooden cupboards and a center island that gleamed thanks to spotlights overhead. The other half of the room contained an overlarge, brushed brown leather L-seater and faced a large screen TV. But what interested me was the fire. There was a deep hearth, large enough to almost stand in, and beside it, there was an old woman. She was sitting in a wheelchair, her mouth slack, her face free of expression, but the only part of her that moved were her eyes.

  They darted left and right, here and there, taking everything in. Absorbing it like she was a sponge and we were dishwater.

  I licked my lips, uneasy with the sight of her. The Fae weren’t often ill, and we were unaccustomed to diseases that the healers couldn’t fix. There were a few out there, granted, and the healers couldn’t repair old age, but this level of sickness was beyond my grasp.

  At my side, Daniel and Matthew were also shuffling around, fidgeting with their discomfort, but Riel showed no such awkwardness. She moved over to the old woman, asking, “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She had a stroke a long time ago,” Lars murmured, his surprise at her interest evident.

  Riel’s brow puckered. “She’s lived like this for a while?”

  “Yes. My great-aunt has a very stubborn nature,” Lars murmured.

  “You didn’t think to put her in a nursing home?” Riel queried, her focus half on him and half on the old lady.

  “Of course not. She does well here at the homestead. We never do well far from it.”

  Riel’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  Gabriella cleared her throat. “Our homesteads are our hearts, Riel. No first family strays far from it.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “The houses are imbued with ancient magic,” Lars reasoned. “From the dawn of our lines, we’ve lived here. Someone has kept the fires at the homestead burning. Renewing our connection with this land, in this hearth. It is our center, and we all must live here for most of the year. Our family was many, and that’s why the property is so big.

  “Leaving, even for college, can be painful.”

  Riel scowled at her grandmother. “We don’t live at the homestead.”

  “We couldn’t,” was all Gabriella said.

  “How long have you been away from it?” Lars asked, his curiosity and his horror evident.

  The presence of the latter indicated more than anything else could just how bad it was for a first family to be away from their homestead.

  “I’ve never lived in it. Nor has my mother.”

  Lars’ eyes widened. “Sol’s teeth. You must—”

  Riel’s mouth worked. “Must, what? Be suffering? If I am, I don’t know it.”

  “Why would you? You’ve been suffering since you were born,” Daniel reasoned. Unhelpfully, I thought.

  Riel gulped. “I guess.” She cut her grandmother a look. “Is this why Mama is such a bitch?”

  Gabriella snorted. “No. The homestead isn’t a cure-all, mija. It doesn’t change our personalities.” She hesitated for a second, then sighed with relief when Linford approached her. I watched as she leaned into him, appeared to gain strength from his presence, then murmured, “But it would have helped you with your magic from a young age.”

  “The homestead centers us. Especial
ly when we’re young, and especially if we’re powerful,” Lars explained, then he beckoned to the island and murmured, “Would anyone like coffee?”

  Riel scowled. “I’d like answers.”

  “To which questions?” Lars reasoned.

  “That’s the trouble. There are too many.” She reached up and rubbed her temples. “There’s so much white noise in here.”

  My eyes widened at that and I headed over to her, just as I’d seen Linford do to her grandmother. The second I approached, she sighed with relief and fell into me.

  Lars, spying the gesture, murmured, “There is much power in here. It calls to the strongest of our lines.”

  “Did you feel this at your homestead?” I questioned softly.

  Riel shook her head. “No.” The bleakness to that one word hit me hard.

  Gabriella whispered, “The homestead dies without its family. Just as the family dies without its homestead.”

  I tensed, waiting on Riel’s explosion, but she didn’t say anything, just grabbed my hand and held on as Daniel and Matthew moved toward the kitchen with Lars. When Gabriella and Linford did too, she turned around and stared at the old woman.

  Unable to stop myself, I, too, studied her. She was heavily lined, her body frail and infirm with her stooped shoulders and crumpled form. But what made me uneasy was the way her eyes were alive with awareness. Her body had failed her, but her mind certainly hadn’t.

  “I can’t leave her like this,” Riel rasped, her voice low.

  “Then don’t,” I encouraged softly, understanding her reasoning.

  “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to,” she whispered back. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  “Following the vision. It led you here—”

  “It led us here. This is about all of us. Grandmother knows more than she’s saying. She wanted you to touch Lars’ magic first. What stopped you?” she probed, tipping her head up to look me in the eye.

  As always, the connection flooded me with sensation, and there was no greater feeling than seeing her being staggered by the link too. Sol, she was so ‘staggered’ that her knees buckled. I grabbed her, quickly hauled her into my body, and wrapped my arms around her.

  “You’re unwell?”

  She released a shaky breath. “Remind me not to have eye contact with any of you.”

  My mouth twitched. “I wondered why you hadn’t been looking fully at us. Not really. Only little glances here and there.”

  Pushing her forehead into my chest, she whispered, “It’s there.”

  “What is?” I asked with a frown.

  “The Rut.” A shudder washed through her. “I can feel it. It’s growing in power, but if I don’t look at you, it’s better.”

  Wondering why that was, and realizing I needed to steer things away from this topic because I had a hard-on and that was always going to be awkward in a stranger’s house, and in front of his infirm great aunt, I whispered, “Lars looked as though he was preparing to die. That’s why I couldn’t touch him.”

  She didn’t reply, just seemed to absorb the words.

  “Then I heard the baby, and I couldn’t hurt him. Not when we don’t know exactly what’s going on. What if I did something wrong, or…?”

  That had her tensing. “Exactly. We don’t know what’s going on, and I’m sick of it. Acting on instinct only gets us so far. How do we move forward without anything to guide us?”

  “Instinct and kismet go hand in hand,” Gabriella murmured, breaking into our conversation. “You’d be surprised what you open yourself up to if you just channel what the Goddess desires.”

  Riel tensed in my arms and, unfortunately for me because I was using her to shield my erection from the room, pulled away. “The Goddess can desire it all she wants, but I need answers.”

  Gabriella’s lips twitched. “You want to cure her, don’t you? Take away her suffering?”

  Riel winced. “Of course, I do. I’m not a monster. Of course, I want to help. If I can.”

  “Oh, you can,” Gabriella assured her, but there was a slyness to her tone that put me on edge. “But just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

  Riel’s brow puckered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. It means nothing. But it could mean everything. What does your instinct say?”

  “To heal her.”

  “And yet, logic says what? That you don’t know how infinite your powers are?”

  Riel’s mouth worked. “The Fae say that a witch’s magic can be drained. That’s how they mine it, after all.”

  I frowned at that, because she’d seemed so certain before that her power wouldn’t falter. Was this just insecurity and nerves talking? Or had she kept something back from us? Something from her vision?

  “Yes, but you’re not a regular witch, are you? You never were.” Gabriella eyed the old lady. “You can help her. And even if it did drain you, which I highly doubt, maybe that was the exact amount of magic you weren’t supposed to have.”

  Riel’s hand gripped mine. “Tatarabuela said that when you work on instinct, you—”

  “It’s far more complicated. Naturally, child, everything happens for a reason, and coincidence is something the humans crafted to make themselves feel better about the poor decisions they make every day of their lives—”

  “Gabriella, leave the girl. Let her think,” Linford called out, but there was a warning in his voice, and that was the first time I’d ever heard that.

  Stiffening, I watched as she obeyed—that was another clue that something weird was going on here. Both grandmother and granddaughter weren’t exactly known for their obedience, after all.

  “Is this a test?” she rasped when her grandmother had returned to the station where Matt and Dan were sitting. I glanced at them and saw they were watching us, watching even as they maintained conversation with Lars and Linford.

  It felt good that they had our backs, good because… Sol, I didn’t have a clue what was happening here. I didn’t feel like I was in danger, didn’t think Riel was either, and yet there was an undertone to the entire situation. A feeling that set me on edge more than if Lars was holding a sword to my back.

  And that?

  Said everything.

  Eleven

  Riel

  The noise was intense. Ever since I’d made it onto the homestead, I’d heard it, but once I’d wandered inside? The noise had grown louder. It was at war with the turbulent emotions that were running around my body thanks to the Rut, and the dueling powers, one physical and one magical, made me feel like my knees were about to give out.

  Seph’s presence at my back helped me. It soothed the Rut’s power over me, but the white noise was intense. It talked at me in a language I didn’t understand, and the worst thing was, I felt like I should know it. Like I should be as fluent in this language as I was English and Spanish.

  But this tongue was like no other, and it felt old. So old. Beyond ancient. Maybe even timeless.

  I gulped at the thought and stopped looking at the old woman who, the sight of, hurt my heart.

  There were consequences to my actions, regardless of whatever my grandmother said. I’d told her I was concerned about draining my magic, but I wasn’t. My magic burned hotly inside me like I had a ball of power as large as the sun in my core. The magic wasn’t what concerned me, it was the power that did.

  The Earth existed on a tenuous balance. Already, we were overpopulated. Already, we were straining at the seams with our numbers. Gaia’s natural resources were stretched thin, billions around the world were food poor, and with the planet beginning to fight back against our numbers, I had to be cautious.

  Didn’t I?

  I’d already done something to my grandparents that would see them live longer lives. Longer lives in which they would further strain the cycle of life because they were anomalies. They should die when their time was right, leaving room for another child, a younger one.

  That was th
e cycle, wasn’t it?

  Death and rebirth?

  I’d dragged two people away from that cycle, and now I was contemplating a third. But when would it stop? I could recruit an army of people who’d fight in my name, for my honor, but what kind of damage would that reap upon Gaia’s true gift to us?

  Not our magic.

  Our home.

  But this woman… she called to me. Just as noisily as her house did.

  The old woman’s eyes darted to mine, like she knew I was thinking of her, and there was such knowledge within them that I felt sure, if I did nothing, that knowledge would be lost. Forever. She couldn’t write them down, evidently couldn’t speak thanks to the way her mouth was slack and free from any muscle tone… how else could she impart her knowledge if I didn’t liberate her from the prison her body had become?

  “Can you heal her?”

  I jerked in surprise, not having realized Lars was standing so close to me. He held out two coffee mugs and Seph reached for his, and slowly, I grabbed mine.

  The move was instinctive, and I had no idea where the instinct came from considering I’d never been poisoned in my life, but I raised the cup to my nose and scented it. There were strains in that scent that didn’t belong to coffee, and I frowned at him.

  “Why have you dosed it with chamomile?”

  Lars’ lips curved. “You scent it?”

  “I do,” I said coldly.

  “Chamomile can calm you down, even as the coffee riles you up.” He shrugged. “It’s my wife’s concoction. Sip it. There’s no taste of the flower.”

  Seph frowned. “Why would you mix herbal tea with coffee?”

  “My wife’s ways are unusual, but trust me, it tastes good. I just thought this situation is evidently very stressful for you, so it would be beneficial.” He shrugged. “No harm, no foul.”

  Seph’s hand tightened around mine. “I’ll try it, Riel.”

  Lars shrugged. “As you will.”

  He wandered away, not waiting for his earlier question to be answered, and I eyed him, then my family. I saw that Daniel and Matthew had glasses of water in front of them, and something inside me eased before I said, “Don’t drink it, Seph.”