by Grace White
“Come, let’s sit.” She leads them to her quarters—a high-ceilinged room adorned in white and gold—waiting for them take up their usual positions. Cael and Endo on the heavenly soft chaise, Ross in the gold-plated wingback chair, and Sol standing guard beside the door. Always on duty.
“The Oracle foresaw something.”
Someone scoffs, and Cael says, “That’s nothing new. She’s always seeing things; it’s her job.”
“This was… different.” Her lips flatten into a thin line and she paces before them, her flowing gown brushing against the thick luscious rug. “She foresaw a great darkness shadowing Earth.”
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Sol challenges. “We can call in help if we need to. A fresh wave of divine beings was sent down only this last week.”
“I appreciate your vigor, Sol, descendant of Ourea. But I fear that, this time, the Guard will not be enough.”
Her words have the four men straightening.
“What then, Vasilissa?” Endo asks the questions they are all thinking.
“Desperate times,” Gaia says with a sad smile. “Call for desperate measures.”
I bolt upright, rubbing my eyes as I try to focus but everything is murky. My vision, my thoughts. Throwing back the cover, I swing my legs over the bed and take a deep calming breath waiting for the sleep-haze to lift. The dream had been so real, so vivid. And as my senses return to the land of the living, I realize it wasn’t a dream at all.
It was a memory.
Gaia’s memory.
A shadow dances across the balcony window and I narrow my eyes, searching the darkness. With a heavy sigh, I cross the room and pull back the thin curtains, not surprised when my sleepy gaze lands on Ross standing there, hands tucked into his jean pockets, his charcoal knitted hat pulled over his head.
“Do I even want to know what you’re doing out here?” I say as I open the door.
He drops his eyes. “I was worried.”
“So you’re what? Camping outside my room? You’ll catch a cold.”
His lip curves a fraction as he lifts his face to mine.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t tell me, you can’t catch a cold?”
“Not really, but I can still feel it.” His body shudders at his words, and I push the door open and step to the side, waiting. He ducks inside, his eyes looking anywhere but at me. And it’s then I realize I’m wearing only my shorts and a thin tank top.
“I’ll get my hoodie.”
“Good idea,” he mumbles, and it’s my turn to smile. He’s so guarded, so unreachable at times, that it’s nice to know I affect him the way he affects me.
Once I’m covered up, I slip back into bed and pull up the covers. Ross hovers, his eyes darting between my bed and the desk chair. I pat the space beside me. “I had a dream, but I don’t think it was a dream at all. Ross, I saw her. I saw Gaia.”
He kicks off his boots and joins me, keeping as much distance between us as possible which isn’t much given the size of my bed and the size of him. “What did you see?” His eyes lock on mine and I gulp.
“She seemed… sad. She was staring out over Elysia. It was so beautiful. The fields, the rolling hills, the glistening blue oceans. Endo was there. And then the three of you turned up.”
“I remember,” he says tightly.
“You do?”
Ross nods, his lips flat. The air shifts around us, heavy and suffocating, and thick with the burdens of a past I have yet to unlock.
“It was before she decided to fall, wasn’t it?” I’d seen the memory through someone else’s eyes—a fly on the wall. But I’d felt Gaia’s pain; her internal battle over the decision to be made.
“I think we all knew what you were about to say. You looked at us all in turn and said, ‘Desperate times call for—”
“Desperate measures,” I whisper.
Silence settles around us as I replay the memory in my head. “Why does Endo always call her Vasilissa?”
“It’s an old Greek term for Queen.”
“Oh.” I push a stray lock of hair out of my face. There’s still much I don’t understand about who I am; about my relationship with the guys. But that memory has given me an insight and I want more.
I need more.
Moving closer to Ross, I lay my cheek tentatively against his arm. He goes rigid but doesn’t pull away. “Sol said I shouldn’t hang around with the coven.”
“Sol says a lot of things,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, but is he right? Are they… dangerous?”
They’re powerful, I’ve felt it. But Amalia has helped me a lot, and I can’t help but think they have a role to play in whatever is to come. That it’s no coincidence I met her and in turn, them.
“Harry Teller is a powerful wizard, Terra. But he’s tight lipped about what they’re doing up in that abandoned building. We haven’t paid them too much attention because, well…” his voice trails off and I nudge him. “We were waiting for you. But now they’ve got their sights set on you, it means we’re watching them more closely.”
My next question lingers on the tip of my tongue. But Ross makes the decision for me when he says, “What is it?”
“So, Violet… Cael knows her?” I try to keep my voice light, failing miserably.
“That is Cael’s story to tell, Terra.” Ross’ tone gives nothing away and I mentally chide myself for asking. “But you have nothing to worry about. Cael is as committed to you as the rest of us.”
Oh.
I want to ask what exactly that means, committed to, but I swallow the words.
“It’s weird,” I say, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. “I’ve never been the center of attention before.” My life has been spent on the periphery, watching from a distance.
“You hold a great power inside you. A power coveted by a lot of people, Terra. Human and mystical alike.”
“So they don’t want me, they want the power I carry? Way to make a girl feel special.” It’s a joke. But as soon as the words leave my lips, the realization of what’s at stake hits me square in the chest. Because although Ross didn’t say the words aloud, I can read between the lines. And his warning is clear.
I hold a great power. Power others want.
Power others will go to great lengths for, to have for their own.
Sensing my change in mood, Ross surprises me by slipping his arm around my shoulder and drawing me closer into his side. “We won’t let anything happen to you.” His promise washes over me as I fight to keep my eyes open.
“Will you stay?” I murmur, on the precipice of slumber. And when he finally speaks, I barely hear the word, “Always.”
“Amalia?” I stare at my friend as she hovers outside my dorm room. “What are you doing?”
“I…” Her eyes dart around me. “I wanted to check you were okay.”
Slipping into the hall, I pull my door closed and narrow my eyes at her. “Is there a reason I wouldn’t be?” My brow arches.
“Last night was kind of… intense.”
“I feel fine.”
I slept well, curled around Ross like a spider monkey. Of course, he was gone when I woke up, a sketch of the eternal knot left on the pillow in his place.
We walk downstairs, waiting until we’re out of the building to continue our conversation. “You didn’t feel faint again or anything?”
Shaking my head, I offer her a warm smile. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Good, that’s good. I was worried we’d pushed you too much, too soon. But Violet said…” she mashes her lips together.
“What did Violet say?”
“That maybe you weren’t ready to call the quarters.”
I shrug. “Well, I didn’t really do anything.” I’d just stood there, watching. Waiting for something to happen.
“You did. We’ve never successfully called all four elements before. You grounded us, our power.”
“Like a conduit?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess. Now we’ve called
the four elements, our magic should be stronger. We’ll be able to try new spells.”
“What’s her story, anyway?”
“Who, Violet?” Amalia says. “She’s cool. I mean, if you look past the prickly bitch part. She’s a powerful witch, though. Way more advanced than me and the twins.”
I bristle at her words and change the subject. “So, how did you meet the others?”
“Greyson found me in freshman year.”
“Found you?”
She nods as we take a right, down the path leading to the library and the Malcolm building. “Yeah. He sensed my magic. I hadn’t really practiced much before coming to Atchison; my family aren’t exactly what you call open-minded.”
“I’m sorry,” I say knowing exactly how it feels to be isolated from the ones who are supposed to love you unconditionally.
“Don’t be.” Amalia shrugs. “I’m better for being here. Stronger. More confident. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. They’re not total monsters or anything. But they just don’t get the witch stuff.”
“And the twins?”
“Magic runs deep in their blood. They’re from a family of witches living in the city. Greyson and Harry are cousins.”
“They are?” I’m surprised. Greyson is so friendly and warm, unlike Harry who wears a permanent scowl.
“Yeah. But it’s not something Grey likes to advertise. The two of them don’t always see eye to eye. Violet spends most of her time in the middle trying to smooth things over.”
“How come I rarely see them around campus?”
“They keep themselves to themselves. Greyson and Violet are strong empaths. It can get intense being around so many people.”
“And Harry?”
“What about him?” She shoulders the door to the Malcolm building and we slip inside.
“He’s right here, why don’t you ask him?” Harry kicks off the wall and stalks toward us, his eyes narrowed right on me.
“Hey, Harry, I was just filling Terra in on things,” Amalia says, oblivious to the shift in the surrounding air. But I feel it. His contempt.
I just don’t understand it.
He slings his arm around her shoulder and guides her down the hall. “All good, I hope?”
She bats his chest and I watch their interaction, wondering if there’s more to their relationship than meets the eye. Harry doesn’t seem to look at her the way guys look at girls when they’re interested, but I notice a sparkle in Amalia’s eyes.
“Of course. Are we meeting tonight?”
“Not tonight. Violet and me have a thing,” he says cryptically and her smile slips. Just a fraction. But I see it.
“Oh, okay. Tomorrow then?”
He nods but his eyes slide to mine as if he feels me watching them. “What are your plans for tonight, Terra?”
“I, hmm…”
“We have a dorm meeting at six,” Amalia fills the awkward silence and I’m sure I hear a hint of jealousy in her voice.
“I should probably get to class. But I’ll see you later?” I smile, and she nods, her own smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“See you around, Terra,” Harry calls after my retreating form as if he’s purposefully trying to be an ass.
When I get into Psych 101, I find an empty desk and sit down, watching the other students get organized for class. The new semester buzz still lingers in the air. Three weeks ago, I’d felt the same. Eager to learn. Excited by the prospect of expanding my mind. But it’s different now. My thoughts are consumed with other realms, ancient gods, and magic; not Freud, Pavlov, or Erikson. I can’t help but think Endo was right when he complained we still ‘had to do the class thing’. My grandmother always said I was destined for great things but graduating college and getting a degree is not it.
“Hey, can I sit here?”
I blink up at the guy looming over me. With a friendly face and warm smile, I get no bad vibes from him, so I nod.
“Cool, thanks,” he says, sliding into the seat. “I heard Professor Casey is going to launch Freud’s theory of the unconscious mind today.”
“Oh, really?” I reply.
“Yeah, I heard it’s her personal interest…” he launches into a detailed account of the professor’s own research on Freud’s theories and their application to modern-day psychology. I nod and smile and offer him a couple of ‘hmms’ and ‘ahhs’ but he could be talking about the weather for all it matters.
Because for as much as I’ve always been interested in human behavior, my world seems so much bigger now. And sitting here, in class, seems so… insignificant.
“I want to be a clinical psychologist,” the guy says jolting my thoughts back into the room. “What about you, do you have plans for after graduation?”
After graduation?
I’m not even sure I’ll make it through the year, let alone finish school.
Once Gaia has fulfilled whatever she fell from Elysia to do, will Terra still even exist?
Mumbling some half-hearted reply about keeping my options open, I pull a pen and some paper out of my backpack and try to look busy.
“Oh, look, she’s here,” he whispers as if I can’t see her enter the room. “We should probably finish this conversation later.”
My lips press into a thin line as I imprint his face into my mind, so I can try to avoid ending up seated beside him again.
I’m late.
The dorm meeting started ten minutes ago, but when I got back from classes, I fell asleep over my pile of books into another memory-dream. This time, I saw Gaia with others. Seated around a long ornate table, they listened to a man with hair as white as the clouds. Another man—who an ethereal woman referred to as Erebus—had called him Eros. According to the guys, he’s the equivalent of God. Creator of life.
In the dream I felt the familial bond stretch between him and Gaia. He was so warm and calm, his love for humans emanating from every pore as they discussed matters pertaining to Earth: the population, the current state of crisis—natural disasters, war, famine. The others—five men and two women—had looked to Eros and Gaia for guidance. As the meeting went on, it became apparent this was the High Council, and I learned the others to be: Uranus, Ourea, Pontus, Aether, Erebus, and the women: Nyx, and Hemera.
Beautiful and unearthly in appearance with their pristine loose fitted pants and shirts for the men, and long flowing gowns for the women, they were all business, discussing matters, most of which I didn’t understand. As I watched them converse, I couldn’t help but think Gaia was trying to show me more than just her home. Like she was giving me clues of the missing pieces of my destiny.
I just have to figure out what it all means.
Downstairs, I slip into the common room and join the group. Amalia flashes me an eager smile, tipping her head to the leather cube beside her.
“We were just about to draw the next prank,” she says as I join the circle.
“Lovely of you to join us, Terra.” Jesse smirks but Claire wipes the smug look off her face with an elbow to the ribs.
“So it’s agreed we’ll hit Monȃe next?”
Everyone nods, and Amalia lifts a small box onto her lap. “Okay, good. Mischa, want to do the honors?” She holds out the box and lifts the lid, letting Mischa slip her hand inside. “What does it say?”
Mischa unfolds the slip of paper and clears her throat. “Noticeboard switch up.”
“It’s mine,” Jesse barks and all eyes snap over to her. “What?”
“We don’t want to get disqualified, Jesse,” Claire says.
“Chill. I can play by the rules. Besides, I have the perfect idea. And I thought Terra could help me.”
“Jess—” Amalia starts, but I cut her off.
“Fine. Count me in.” I narrow my eyes at the surly girl opposite me. “We can handle it.”
“Then it’s decided. We’ll hit them tonight.” Jesse nods before leaving the room. A couple of girls go with her, and the rest of the group gradually disperses.
Amalia waits until we’re alone and turns to me. “You don’t have to prove anything, Terra. I can go with Jesse, or Mischa or Claire will do it.”
“I’m a big girl, I can handle Jesse.”
Besides, pranking Allender had been thrilling. A rush I hadn’t expected… or experienced before.
“If you’re sure?” The worry lines around Amalia’s eyes betray her words but I’m doing it.
“I am.”
“Okay then. We’ll meet down here at midnight. The dorm should be relatively quiet by then.”
Three hours later, dressed in the same all-black outfit I wore to sneak into Allender, I meet Amalia; Jesse; Claire; and one of Jesse’s friends, Riley; in the downstairs hall.
“There’s still time to change your mind,” Amalia whispers while the others check the supplies.
“Amalia, it’s just a prank. What’s the worst that can happen?”
She lets out a long breath. “Jesse can be… well, just watch your back, okay?”
“It’ll be fine.” Some time alone with Jesse might thaw her attitude toward me.
All set, we make our way out of Earhart and take the path around the building instead of taking the main route through campus. This way we can stick to the shadows. Walking quickly and quietly, we stick close to the tree line. A strong wind howls around the branches, whipping my hair around my face, and I pull up my hood, tightening the string. Jesse and Riley walk ahead and Amalia and Claire stick by me until Monȃe comes into view, and they hang back, finding a hiding space to wait for us. Giving them a small nod, I jog after Jesse who shows no sign of slowing down so I can catch up with her. When we’re finally side-by-side, she casts me an amused smirk and I roll my eyes. She points to the back door, mouthing ‘let’s try that first’ and I nod, glad I don’t have to shimmy through a window this time.
The door clicks open and I frown at how easy getting inside is. But Jesse doesn’t seem surprised as she slips into the dark opening. With a quick glance around, I follow her, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Coast is clear,” she whispers, and my eyes strain against the darkness to get my bearings, the shapes become clearer and I realize we’re standing in Monȃe’s laundry room. “I stopped by earlier to see a friend and snuck in here and unlocked the door.”
