Everlasting

by Candace Knoebel

  She shrugs and looks down at her phone. “Just sayin’.”

  “Regardless, these are the rules, and speaking of such opinions will only hinder your future within the Coven,” Eliza spurns. Her tone holds enough warning. “Now, I will hear no more of this talk, not on a day such as this.” She leans forward and turns the radio on, filling the car with the sounds of opera and ending the conversation.

  “Fifteen more miles,” Jonathon says.

  I lean my head against the glass and close my eyes, shutting everything out. With every mile we travel, I go deeper into myself. The further I go, the safer I’ll be when the time comes to stand before the Coven.

  THE RIDE THROUGH THE CURVING countryside feeds the quake tremoring inside my bones. Through the fall-kissed trees fencing the winding road, I catch feathered glimpses of the historic sage limestone buildings settled on the hills of Troy. Bits of brittle green grass peek out from the webbing of oranges, reds, and yellows. My heart stutters when we turn on the main road and inch toward the gated entrance.

  “We’re here,” Jonathon says from the front seat. I can’t understand why his tone is so lighthearted; so casual, calm.

  Katie squeals with enough excitement for the both of us. “This is it! This is it! This is it!” She literally bounces in her seat which shakes the car. And the dread that’s stuck on my soul like tar.

  I manage a smile, catching tiny bits of her viral excitement. My stomach flutters up to my heart and bursts into guilt. How can I be happy when my parents could be hurt? I can’t. Not fully. I fiddle with my hands on my lap and go over the rehearsed ways to act, the ways I want to act. Calm. In control. Whole.

  I don’t even realize I’m tapping my foot to the beat of doubt until Katie reaches over and holds my leg down.

  “Chill,” she says low enough for only me to hear. I do, and find my stomach sinking back into place. She squeezes my leg reassuringly, and then lets go to peer back out her window.

  The car stops in front of two large, black iron gates. The Coven symbol is welded in the center with intricate vine detailing. Two angled cameras on either side of the car zoom in on us. Jonathon removes his jacket and rolls the long sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow. He sticks his arm out the window, showing off his affinity mark. A small, red laser beam of light scans over his mark, and, a second later, the gates swing open.

  If all goes well, both Katie and I will be branded today. We will bear the shared affinity mark with our partner. I glance down at the inside of her elbow, wondering what hers will look like, as we continue down the short street lined in white elm trees. Their golden orange leaves majestically rain down on us.

  Men in black suits and top hats stand out in front of the circular driveway, their hands kept uniformly behind their backs. Some open car doors and guide novices and parents toward the auditorium. My gaze drifts over the old buildings I’ve dreamed about for years and years. I lean in, and the tightness in my chest slowly expands. The cathedral-style clock tower in the distance strikes ten. Ten deep gongs sing over yards and yards of manicured fields. Gargoyles representing each of the six Divine roost on the Gothic-style roof tops.

  When the car stops, I step out and walk around to stand next to Katie. I can’t help but feel tiny under the sights and sounds surrounding me. I tug on the cool air and drop my hands to my sides. I open and close them, not knowing exactly how I should be standing or what to do with myself.

  “Welcome to the Night Watchmen Academy,” the man in front of us says in a monotone voice. He’s bored. Either that or he’s dull. It’s all over every inch of every word he speaks. “I’m Nathaniel, your guide.” He extends a lengthy arm out and settles his brown eyes on me. It’s then that I notice a small, white scar lining the corner of his mouth. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, with a broad nose the most prominent feature on his face. His lips are large and pink and contrast against the paleness of his freckled skin.

  “We’ll be right behind you,” Eliza says to Katie as they get back in the car to park.

  I want to ask her to stay with us or to give me her phone, but I don’t. She’ll find me if she needs to. She’s a mom. That’s what moms do.

  Katie barely even looks back. I have to elbow her in the side just to get her to wave them off. “Sorry,” she says. The guilt in her tone is like a clenched hand around my throat.

  “Don’t be sorry, Kat.” She’s entitled to her emotions. She has a right to fully enjoy this day. No one will take that from her, not even me. I’ll be damned.

  She looks over at me and conflict sheens over her eyes.

  I drop my gaze on her and raise my brows. “I’m serious.”

  Nathaniel clears his throat. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?” he prompts unenthusiastically. Kat and I share a smile and follow him as he walks down the cobblestone path toward the grand auditorium. If I could, I’d bottle the air and keep it with my most favorite things. There’s notable electricity in it that pricks at every nerve ending in my body. The campus is alive with the dreams of every novice past and present.

  “I can’t believe this!” Katie squeals as we enter the large, double wooden doors of the auditorium. The noise of anxious chattering is almost deafening. People of every size, stature, and color fill the aisles and rows. Some stand. Some sit. Some stare up at the stage where the novices wait.

  A part of me wants to crawl into a hole…the part that fears the outcome of today, the part that fears it will all happen without my parents. But the other part of me, the part I long to be, wants to embrace every smile, every laugh, every moment of this day for all that it is. I want to savor the beginnings of a lifetime, the beginnings of a destiny.

  “Go straight down the aisle and on up to the stage. Look for your name taped to the back of your assigned seat,” Nathaniel says quickly before disappearing back out into the courtyard. Katie takes my hand and ushers me down the aisle. We make our way around those who crowd the aisle. She waves at a few people who I’ve never seen before, and then practically yanks me up the side steps to the stage.

  I quickly count twenty-seven chairs, and a blade coated in poisonous realization stabs the spine of my brittle composure. That’s it? That’s all that are expected at this Culling? Katie’s eyes find mine, and I know she’s thinking the same thing- an odd number. That can mean one of two things; there’s either a novice with an affinity partner who’s not yet of age, or there’s a Defect amongst us. I want to shrivel into the furthest corner and hide from the inevitable.

  “It’s not a Defect thing, Faye,” Katie says immediately, dropping her gaze on me and taking my hands. Her eyes scan over my face and go soft. “One of us will just have to spend our time on campus without our partner until next Samhain. You’ve heard of it before. It’s rare that it happens, but you know that not everyone hits the age bracket on time.” Her voice is a river of calm I want to drift down. Her surety is a warm blanket I want to stay under.

  “That would be the better outcome,” I say, hiding my panic with a rocky smile.

  “It’ll all be fine. I promise.” She squeezes my hand and smiles sympathetically. I nod. Best friends don’t make promises they can’t keep. “Come on.” She pulls me further onto the stage, leaving the momentary terror behind us.

  Some novices are already in their chairs and staring out into the growing crowd with pale faces. Others are piled around a few different chairs talking. Night Watchmen are posted at different areas around the stage, each standing at attention, each blending in with the shadows. I don’t see a single familiar face aside from Katie’s.

  “Let’s go say hi to Todd,” Katie says. “I met him at a dinner party my parents went to last year. He’s cool.”

  I smile and back up a step. Meeting new people right now just doesn’t sound appealing, not when I’m focusing all of my will on remaining calm and in control. “I think I’m just going to find my chair and sit down. Take it all in, you know?”

  She pauses, searching my face. “Okay,” she says, sque
ezing my shoulder before turning away. I watch her walk over to the clique of girls huddled around Todd. He looks up and smiles at her, and then pulls her into a hug, warranting evil stares from all the other girls, which I don’t understand. Jealousy over someone you may or may not be partnered with is a waste of time in my opinion, especially since we’re minutes away from being told who our partner will be for the rest of our lives.

  Well, all but one of us.

  I look away, searching the crowd for Katie’s parents. I catch them taking their seats near the front of the stage and will her mother to look up at me. She sits and then looks up, her eyes connecting with mine. I hold my breath, hoping she can read my expression. She does. She shakes her head, and my heart falls. Nothing yet.

  I look down at my lap and crack each and every finger knuckle one by one. The kid next to me doesn’t move. She seems just as nervous as I am. Black hair shields her face from view. I think I should say hi. It’s the polite thing to do, but I don’t want to. I think if I open my mouth, vomit will come out.

  I make my eyes move back to the crowd. I make them see my surroundings. I scan every inch, refusing to cower to fear. I need to be aware. I need to be present. I feel the eyes of someone watching me and turn. Deep set, light green eyes study me from the shadows of the side of the stage. His rugged face is sculpted and covered in dark stubble. Dark brown hair is shaved on the sides with a little length on top that forms a skillful mess.

  A funny feeling settles in my stomach as he holds my gaze. I can’t take my eyes away from his. I don’t want to. There’s something so familiar inside of them; so much misguided pain and pent up fear that seeks release. His brows dip a little in confusion, and then he looks away and back into the crowd. He’s a Watchman patrolling from the side of the stage.

  I look back over at Katie, but she’s not there anymore. I scan the stage and still don’t see her until I sit back and she appears in front of me. She’s completely turned around in her seat. “It’s almost time!”

  “Awesome.”

  “Oh, stop being melodramatic. Smile.” She reaches out and pulls my lips up into some form of what she thinks is a smile.

  I can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes as I smack her hand away. “You’re such a dork.”

  “Can’t help it,” she says, settling back into her seat.

  I smile with my head down, thinking about how glad I am that she’s here with me. Music streams in through the speakers of the auditorium, and I jerk my head back up. My pulse matches the fast pace as the Elder in charge, wearing bright red ceremonial robes, makes his way down the center of the auditorium. This is it. This is really it. I frantically search the crowd for my parents and can’t find a single face to settle my nerves.

  The Elder makes his way to the podium and taps the mic. The audience goes quiet; the kind of quiet I could get lost in. Every novice sits a little straighter, their hands folded in their laps. I try to do the same, adjusting myself to match them. I can taste the anticipation. It’s sweet and sour, and I chew harder on my gum to try and bring back the minty flavor, but it’s hard and tastes like cardboard.

  “Welcome, novices and fellow Watchmen,” the Elder says, his modulated voice booming through the room. His arms are held out in welcome, and his light smile somehow brightens the energy in the air.

  Applause erupts around the room, startling me in my seat. I’m a second late in clapping, but eventually, my hands find each other.

  He puts his hand down, and the gesture alone quiets the room. He takes the mic off the podium and turns to address us. “I’m Elder Maddock, the Elder in charge of this Academy, and I have the honor of administering the annual Culling Ceremony for our territory.” His voice is a pillar of poise. His smile is its own entity, demanding respect and trust.

  I’m too frozen inside the manacles of shock to even formulate a solid thought. I’m too focused on the name he gave. It repeats like a broken record through my mind, each time pushing me further and further into my seat.

  Maddock. Maddock. ‘The’ Maddock. My parents’ Elder, the one who knows what’s going on with them, the one I’ve been waiting for a call from, the one who will deliver my freedom or banishment.

  I think I begin to hyperventilate. I place my hand over my chest and feel the rapid beating and uneven rising and falling. Yep. Definitely hyperventilating. Not here. Not now, I tell myself. I don’t want to worsen the situation by thinking myself into a panic attack, but I can’t help but realize that he’s the one who’s going to tell me I’m a Defect. Or parentless. Or neither. Or both.

  I glance up to the ceiling, imagining my gaze going higher and into the clouds where the Divine rest. Why him? What did I do to deserve this?

  Katie turns in her chair, and my gaze falls back in place. She’s checking on me. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, and I know I must look bad. I feel horrible. Sweat soaks my forehead. Chills raise bumps along my skin. I’m a perfect contradiction of hot and cold. She lifts her hand and quickly demonstrates taking slow, deep breaths before turning back around to continue listening to the Elder.

  “I will open the ceremony with a blessing to the Divine, our originals. In reminding ourselves of how we came to be, we can move ahead in these trying times and continue in the legacy of protecting humanity,” Maddock says. I practice Katie’s breathing, focusing on what he’s saying rather than what I’m thinking. My thoughts can’t be trusted. They’re carefully placed traps waiting for me to step into, waiting to cripple my ability to exist.

  “When the blessing is complete, we will say goodbye to the novices. They’ll make their way back stage where they’ll be kept separate until the ceremony is over. One by one, we will bring them out, and they will connect with the Culling quartz. The Culling quartz will awaken their powers and determine their affinity partner. The face of their partner will appear on the screen behind me, at which time we will bring that person out so they can meet, connect, and be branded with their shared affinity mark.” He adjusts the mic and then clears his throat.

  I feel the eyes of everyone in the room staring, probing, guessing. Predictions are like vultures circling over us, waiting for the moment our old lives end and our new ones begin. I stare at the back of Katie’s head as my nervous system malfunctions. I shouldn’t be freaking out this bad. I need to rein it in before someone notices. I need to be strong.

  “The Divine, three Hunters and three Witches, awoke at a time when humankind was in dire need of protection. Through the ages, we’ve lived in fear of being discovered by humans, even though we protect them from the evils that seek them out, until one Divine broke from the Coven. To speak of the dark days that led up to the Great Battle of the Covens is an insult to our people, but to ignore the gift that came from those days would be insolence. When the Divine Mourdyn opened the doorway to Underground, giving unsavory paranormal beings a way to reach the plane of the living, we could no longer hide in the shadows. Humankind was being destroyed, ripped apart by the spite of one of our own. We had to make it right.

  “And so, the remaining five Divine formed our place within the United Nations. Rules were set, factions were made, a chain of command formed, allegiances…all to create what we’ve become today- humankind’s ultimate protector against an evil they cannot fight. We all need to work together in order to fight against the growing paranormal activity in our cities. The Culling ensures that we do. It ensures not only our safety, but the safety of humankind as well. And so I stand before you, under the keen eye of the Divine, on the day of the Culling, where your children will become one of us as they accept their destiny and continue on with our legacy of protecting those weaker than ourselves.”

  He pauses a moment, and then says, “Please stand and state the blessing with me before we begin the Culling.” Everyone rises, including us, and I can’t hear past the blood pounding in my ears. His hands raise, and then he says:

  Of my blood and your blood, we are one.

  Of my heart and your heart, we ar
e one.

  Of my mind and your mind, we are one.

  I pledge my life to the ways of the Coven,

  And offer up my soul.

  Henceforth, we must watch the night,

  For in darkness, we must be the light.

  When the blessing is finished, the crowd takes their seats as we’re rushed off the stage. I try to keep track of Katie’s jeweled clip, but I bump into the leg of a chair and have to catch myself to keep from falling. A solar flare of heat spreads across my cheeks. When I stand upright again, she’s already gone. A few novices snicker behind me. I throw a heated glare over my shoulder which quiets them right up.

  “This way,” Nathaniel says from the side of the stage. We’re like cows being herded into individual pens to await sacrifice. There are closed-in cubicles constructed backstage, and each of us is placed in one without a word of guidance or encouragement.

  “Wait a second,” I say as I try to scan down the row one last time for Katie, but I’m shoved into my cubicle and the door shuts, enclosing me in between four confining walls with only the light of a lamp. I drag my hands down the fabric of the walls until I fall down into my seat. I tug on my braid again and again and again. Calm down. Breathe. Calm down. I chant this over and over again, imagining that Katie’s the one who’s coaching me. I shut my eyes and am back in her room. The scent of her perfume overwhelms the small space, but instead of making me sneeze, it comforts me. It makes my imagined state more real.

  I hear loud clapping coming from off the stage and know someone must’ve just gone. They obviously weren’t a Defect. No one wants a Defect at their ceremony. A voice shouts, “Let’s go, Todd Jenson. It’s time to meet your partner.” I wonder if it was Katie on stage. I wonder if he’s her partner. I wonder this through eighteen more times worth of clapping and cheering and name calling. Anytime now, they’ll open my door and force me to stand before the crowd, force me to touch the quartz, force me to face my peers in shame. If they deem me a Defect, I’ll be the first this Culling, and most likely the only.