He drew in a long breath.
"But as is common, with great power comes equally great greed. Nobody wanted to share, because as anyone who has had a taste of genuine magick will attest, it's like a drug that you can never have enough of. It was then that Black magick, spells meant to harm other Magickans, was born. Discord grew, and it didn't take long for society to suffer."
Power hungry addicts can have a detrimental effect on order. Wars were waged, people died, and the magick became corrupted. And in this time of unease, a coven of thirteen witches came together, and formed a governing force to police Magickans."
"The Elder witch ghosts," I said.
Atticus nodded, and the color drained from his face. I understood his wariness; one encounter with the ghosts was enough for me to never want a repeat performance.
“The Elder witch coven punished those who abused magick by stripping their powers, still it wasn't enough to stop the horrors that ensued, because there were too many Magickans for the Elder witches to handle. Not long after, the lines between White and Black magick became so distinct, and their animosity for one another so vicious, that the whole world was in total chaos and on the brink of destruction. With everything teetering on the edge of oblivion, the Elder witches grew desperate. They cast a spell that harnessed all the magick in the world into what is now called the Cauldron of Magick.
No one denied it was an extreme move, but humankind had proven beyond doubt, that they couldn't be trusted with unlimited magick and because of this, everyone was rendered powerless. All magick, real magick I mean, for the most part vanished. Though there were a few who could still perform light spells, it was nothing compared to what had once existed, and as a result, fighting ceased and there was peace, albeit tentative.
But there were consequences of course, because after a lifetime of relying on magick, Magickans were unable to survive without it, and were forced to depend on the non-magickal people to show them how to live a new way.
Magickans of both Black and White despised their new weakness and vowed to restore the magick that had been stolen from them, surprisingly, the once enemies came together and launched an all-encompassing quest to find the Cauldron of Magick. The task of finding the Cauldron of Magick was more difficult than the Magickans had expected, because the Elder witches had cast both cloaking spells and binding charms to conceal its location. Even so, a few Magickans managed to bypass the wards, and found the Cauldron, but they quickly realized that finding the Cauldron was the easy part, accessing it was a completely different issue.
What the Elder witches hadn't known, was that when harnessed, the combined magick of the universe was so potent, that it was lethal to any mortal who tried to dip into its power.
After centuries of trying to release the magick, and thousands of Magickans deaths, the Magickal circles and communities were forced to rethink their approach. That's when they came up with a new plan. They took those few who could still perform rudimentary spells, and bred them with one another, reasoning that after several generations, a witch who could access the Cauldron would be created. But with every child born, and failed attempt, the likelihood of it ever happening grew remote."
Atticus paused and gazed up into the sky. "That was until your mother was born."
I sucked in a breath at the mention of my mother.
"From an early age Jade showed promise. She was a gifted seer, but could also manipulate the space time continuum, and when tested, had actually connected briefly with the Cauldron and had had no ill effects from it."
It was bittersweet hearing about my mother, I knew so little about her, that whatever snippets Atticus was willing to give me were welcome. And I wished, as I had so many times before, that I'd had a chance to know her.
"Magickans come into their full power at the age of twenty-four, and though everyone wanted to push Jade to open the Cauldron sooner, they knew it was better to wait until she had matured. Unfortunately, as she grew and developed, the weight of her energy grew as well, until it became too much for her to carry. Like a cancer, her magick started to kill her.
In a last ditch attempt to save Jade by releasing some of her innate power, Florence, the guardian that had been chosen to care for Jade, decided to breed her with another Magickan. The hope was that the offspring would absorb some of her energy, and Jade would survive. What nobody knew was that Jade had her own agenda, and had already fallen in love with someone else, and was pregnant with you.
Though they had hoped to breed her with a specific Magickan, they accepted what had happened, and allowed the pregnancy to go to term, but as you know the energy transfer didn't work, and she died when you were born."
I swallowed a few times, stunned by his words. The reason for my mother's death and also my father's identity, were two more pieces of my life that had always been a mystery, yet seemed common knowledge to everyone but me.
Atticus raked a hand through his hair, then paced back and forth as if he were agitated. "With her death, all plans changed and a new force was brought into the Magickal circle. That's where you, me, and Mira came into play."
Just the sound of Mira's name made my shoulders bunch into knots.
"Mira?" I spat. "So she's behind all this?"
He gave a dry chuckle. "Her?" He shook his head. "No, she's just the carrier nothing more, but she is willing and ready and her power has grown enough that she can bear the energy transfer."
"None of this makes sense," I said, shaking my head. It was all too much to process.
Atticus leveled his gaze on me. "Of course it doesn't make sense, why would it? Your adoptive grandmother has made sure that you were kept well in the dark."
I heard the condescension in his tone, and I hated it, but I kept my temper at bay.
He quirked a smile at me.
"But I'll make it simple for you. Tomorrow night I'll drain your life force, transfer your energy to Mira and then..."
His tone was flat, and it stung more than I had expected. I felt tears burn at the back of my eyes.
"So you're going to kill me," I said.
He nodded, then popped his knuckles absently. I balled my fists, and did my best to keep the emotion out of my voice.
"But why me?" I asked, feeling sicker with each passing second, because I didn't want to die. I had so much more to do with my life.
"Because you have your mother's energy inside you."
I shook my head fiercely. I had already lost Dakota and Nanny Flo, my job as the Skeptic was up in the air, and now they wanted to take the only thing I had left, my life.
"You can't do this to me," I said, between trembling lips.
Atticus pressed his palms together, and his face darkened. "Oh, yes I can."
"How does Mira figure into this?" I said, trying to replace my sorrow with anger.
"As I said, she'll be the carrier. That means I'll transfer your energy and mine, into her and..."
I stared at him incredulously, because if I understood him correctly, it meant...
"But you'll die too," I said.
My breath caught, because if Atticus died so did Dakota.
He nodded. "That's what is expected," he said, but his expression seemed to say that it wasn't what he had planned, which made my next question even more important.
"But why would you be willing to die?" I asked.
Atticus arched an eyebrow, then sniffed. "I've already said enough, come on."
He seized me by the arm, and jerked me toward the house. Every instinct in me wanted to fight, but I knew it was a waste of time; Atticus would just catch me again.
Before we reached the screened in porch, Nanny Flo and Mira, pushed through the front door and out onto the steps. Nanny Flo moved with unexpected swiftness, and without breaking her stride, slapped me so hard across the face, that I fell back into Atticus's arms.
"Run away again, and I'll make you wish you never did," she snarled, then gave Atticus a hard stare. Mira bounced forward, her expression worrie
d. I was amazed at how Mira's self-assured demeanor seemed to vanish whenever she was around Atticus.
Atticus shouldered by them, and into the house, tugging me behind him. Nanny Flo and Mira followed.
"They've decided to come early," Mira said, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in a display of uncertainty. I heard Atticus draw in a sharp breath behind me. Nanny Flo's expression turned thunderous.
"I knew awakening Atticus too early would cause issues," she said, through tight lips.
"Why do you blame everything on me, woman?" Atticus boomed. He pushed past me, and positioned himself in front of Nanny Flo.
"Do you really need to ask that?" Nanny Flo said, glaring at him.
Atticus made a low rumble deep in his throat, and stretched his lips taut across his teeth. His fisted hands were stiff at his sides.
"I have atoned for my mistakes. Three years of my life spent imprisoned within my own body, while watching a stranger live my life should be enough to right all my wrongs."
Nanny Flo snorted then pursed her lips. "A pittance compared to what I have had to sacrifice over the years."
For a fraction of a second I saw deep sorrow in her gaze, but it shifted quickly to resolve.
"Let us prepare for the Aswang's arrival."
And with that she turned, and walked out of the room toward the kitchen.
"Did she just say Aswang?" I said with a note of sarcasm.
We had once done a show on the Aswang, mythological creatures from the Philippines, so I knew a little about how they were thought to be Vampiric witches. For me, the oddest part of the myth, was that unlike most of the legends in North America where people thought it was all just make believe, the mass majority of Filipino people swore by the existence of the Aswang.
Atticus's face was a mask of rage, and he looked as if he might explode at any moment. He locked his withering glare on me.
"Yes, they are coming," he said, his voice thick with disgust.
"Are you saying that the Aswang are real?" I scoffed.
I had seen a lot of weird and unexplained phenomenon, but things as far flung as vampires, and werewolves were all folklore, nothing more.
"Yes, you dumb twit, they do exist and they're on their way, so you better be on your best behavior or they might rip your head off," Mira said, rolling her eyes.
She glided over to Atticus who was still fuming. Seemingly unaffected by the cloud of his anger, Mira slid behind him, massaging his shoulders with her long tapered fingers. She planted a light kiss on his earlobe. He shrugged her off but even with his rebuff, Mira's expression was rapt, and it was obvious that she loved him.
"Bring me my tools," Atticus threw over his shoulder.
Mira nodded, and without another word, rushed out of the room. Atticus brought his focus to me, and all his fury melted away like a dusting of snow beneath the sun. He stepped forward. I noticed his stride seemed more like Dakota's. When he stopped in front of me, his face softened and even the way he stood changed.
"Dakota?" I whispered.
He nodded, then smiled and gave me his bad boy squint. My heart fluttered and it took all my will not to throw myself into his arms, but I refused the urge, because I didn't know if it was a trick.
"Here are your tools," Mira said, startling me.
Atticus cracked his neck and his eyes turned hard again, he seemed to stretch in height and his face looked like it was chiseled from stone. He arched an eyebrow in my direction, then turned to face Mira. She passed him a black leather duffel bag. Whatever was in it, clanged with the move.
"Good my sweet," he said, sweeping her into his arms.
She instantly molded her body to his, kissing him enthusiastically. There was no doubt in my mind that if he had wanted it, she would have gladly have had sex with him right there on the floor in plain view. I shifted uncomfortably, because no matter what had happened, this man was Dakota to me, and Mira wasn't supposed to be kissing him.
When she reached down and cupped his leather-covered crotch, I averted my eyes, sickened. Seconds later, there was an thunderous crash near the front of the house. Atticus and Mira separated. Atticus sprinted down the hall, Mira and I trailed behind him. When we reached the inner door of the front porch, I was stunned to see that it had been blown off its hinges. I glanced wordlessly at Mira and Atticus, who wore identical expressions of apprehension.
"What..." I started to say, but the rest of my words locked in my throat.
Three women, clad in flowing white gowns, stepped through the doorframe and into the house. Clones of one another, they had narrow noses, thin pale lips with no philtrums, and lacked eyelashes and eyebrows. Their skin was alabaster, and their shoulder length hair was so close in color to their flesh, that it was difficult to discern where their skin ended and their hair began. Their faces were too smooth, as if every possible line of expression had been ironed away, yet there was ancientness in their eyes. The Aswang's only dissimilar feature was their eye color. The woman on the far left had black-brown eyes, the middle, amber, and the woman on the far right had eyes so pale blue that they verged on white.
"Welcome Aswang," Atticus said, bowing his head in deference, an act that seemed absurd on a man who oozed as much confidence and defiance as he did. The three bowed their heads in response, then swept silently into the house.
"Shit," I said, under my breath. I took a few tentative steps away from them, no longer doubting the existence of the creatures called the Aswang.
"Where is Florence?" the blue-eyed woman said in a hissing voice.
"Preparing for your arrival your Grace," Mira said, with a surprisingly elegant curtsy.
"I am here," Nanny Flo said, from behind us.
I swiveled my head toward her. She had donned a loose, dark hooded cloak, that buried her in mounds of fabric, making her appear even more diminutive than usual. Her ebony hair was drawn up into a tight knot atop her head, and she held a silver platter in her hands. When I'd had a proper look at the contents of the tray, I almost retched.
"I've brought you an offering," she said, with a slight bend of her knee.
Without delay, the three Aswang fell upon the tray, devouring the assortment of chicken hearts, livers and various innards, that Nanny Flo had splayed across it. I swallowed a few times, watching with grim horror when the Aswang moaned, as they licked, sucked, and tore at the raw flesh. When all the flesh had been eaten, the blue-eyed woman snatched the platter and in long repulsive strokes, licked the remnants of the meal from the surface with her anemically pale tongue, that seemed roughly the length and diameter of a large snake. Only after she had cleaned every drop of blood and entrails from the platter, did she, and the other two women, turn their gaze back to Nanny Flo.
"What trouble is this that we have heard about?" the one with amber eyes said in a low voice, thick with menace.
"There has been no trouble," Atticus piped in.
He had an uncharacteristically nervous smile plastered across his strained face. All three sets of eyes shifted toward him, and I saw him visibly shrink a little.
"It has been resolved," Nanny Flo said, her voice even, though her eyes exhibited the identical fear that marked everyone else in the room.
"How has the death of the Wiccan been resolved?" the brown-eyed woman asked, and I was sure I had heard her voice somewhere before.
Nanny Flo flinched. Mira took a few steps closer to Atticus.
"We used the Wiccan to bring the girl," Nanny Flo said, unexpected steel in her tone.
"Explain," the three women screeched. When their mouths opened fully, I spied an array of decayed and rotted black teeth, that still had shreds of meat wedged between them. And seeing this, made me want to put as much distance as possible between the three creatures and me.
Both Atticus and Mira seemed to share my sentiments, yet Nanny Flo held her stance. She threw back her shoulders, and stood as erect as her ancient body could get.
"As is the custom, the girl needed to come to
me of her own volition, but since our relationship had..." She paused, seeming to search for the correct words. "Had deteriorated, I was forced to take other measures."
"Go on," the brown-eyed woman said, clasping her polished marble hands at her waist.
"We sent apparitions of the Wiccan to Elise, and it drove her to desperation, and she came back to me..."
I suddenly felt as if I had been doused in freezing water, because now I was quite sure who the Wiccan they were referring to was.
"And it worked," Mira said.
Nanny Flo threw a razor sharp glare at Mira, who dropped her gaze to the floor, then folded her arms across her chest. Nanny Flo brought her focus back to the three Aswang.
"As she said, it brought Elise back to us."
"But why did you murder her, if you had already achieved your desires?" the blue-eyed woman said, glowering at Nanny Flo.
"Even after Elise returned to me, I felt a lack of connection. I knew that I would have to do something drastic to get the girl to trust me, otherwise she might have slipped out of my grasp before the energy of the blood moon and of course your Graces' magick, trapped her here. Killing the witch before her very own eyes, showed her just how far I was willing to go to protect her."
I was stunned at the complete lack of feeling in my grandmother's tone. She had just admitted to killing someone, yet she could have been talking about the weather for all she seemed to care.
"You were behind everything," I yelled, and everyone's scrutiny fell to me.
I gasped, remembering the night I had seen Tansy die, and how she had looked so different from the way she had when she had appeared to me. Now it all made sense. Tansy had never been there, it had been Mira and Nanny Flo's mind games that I had fallen for.
Nanny Flo was silent for a few seconds, then a half-grin creased her face.
"I wouldn't point the finger if I were you," she said, knotting her hands together.
I hated the triumphant expression that she shot my way.
"You drove Violet to suicide with your baseless lies, you have as much blood on your hands as I do."
Skeptic Page 20
