Of Flame and Light: A Weird Girls Novel

by Cecy Robson

  A Lesser witch appears with a tray of food, smiling bashfully as if she’s interrupted an intimate moment, her attention bouncing between them in awe. He doesn’t notice her, but why would he? His full attention is on Vieve and very far away from me.

  What. The. Hell?

  I whirl around when he glances up at me. Sometimes I’m such a fool, I could kick my own ass. Here I was, ready to run to him the moment I saw him, only to watch him leave with someone else.

  Again Vieve laughs, appearing to have the time of her life. Why is he there with her? Did last night not mean anything? Maybe not.

  I stop moving.

  Maybe the two years I gave him didn’t mean anything either. I curse again, the blood in my veins coursing with sadness and hurt. But out of everything I could feel, betrayal and anger burn through me.

  I storm down the rows of plants, repeating the chant, grinding out each word like rotting wood through a really pissed off wood chipper.

  “Skies above and sun most bright hear my pleas . . .”

  I can’t believe him.

  “Cast the light and nourishment upon this soil . . .”

  I can’t believe her.

  “Feed it with your light . . .”

  I love him.

  “Moisten it with your waters . . .”

  I love him.

  “Embrace it with your life.”

  I love him.

  “Nurture the young.”

  But he doesn’t love me . . .

  The realization jars my thoughts, making it hard to speak the last few words.

  “So it may age and feed us in return.”

  “Harvesting our magic, and giving me power.”

  “Power,” I bite out. “Give me power.”

  Lightning crashes, paining my ears and blinding me, the raw force of it making me dizzy. As my vision clears, all I see is blue sky. I’m not sure what happened, but as I scan the field every last leaf of Adders Tongue is pointing up to the heavens, trembling as if electrified.

  I have to admit, their behavior is odd. But then again Vieve did say I would know when to stop. I take it, along with the shift in air, as signs that the plants had their fill. I won’t complain. It’s hotter than a barbecue in Hades and the last thing I want is to chant until the sun goes down.

  The air around me is strangely quiet and the dizziness I feel surges. I fight my way back to the pole, anxious to finish this task and go home. I can feel Gemini and catch traces of his voice, but I can’t look at him while he’s with her.

  This whole experience has been worse than I ever imagined, opening old wounds I fought to keep closed. But I can’t let it break me. I can’t let Vieve win.

  I reach the pole, my brow soaked with sweat from the relentless heat. I wipe it with the back of my hand, but I barely feel the motion. It’s like I’m in a haze, the blistering sun beating down on me.

  I try to clear my head and shake the strange dizziness. I’m lightheaded, bordering on nauseous, but I’m not done and can’t stop now.

  “All right, baby,” I say. “Let’s light this shit up.”

  I narrow my stare on the base of the ribbon, reasoning it’s probably easier to start at the bottom and work my way up. “Come on, burn,” I say, when nothing seems to happen.

  The tip curls. I think something is happening, but then I realize it’s just a passing breeze. I roll my eyes. Vieve is probably trying to fluff her hair again.

  I take a breath, focusing hard.

  “Burn,” I whisper.

  Again, the breeze picks up.

  Damn it, Vieve, cut it out. “Burn,” I repeat, adding more force to my words.

  All I see is that tip, its fraying ends beginning to quiver. I clench my fists.

  “Burn.”

  I tighten my jaw. “I said, burn.”

  My insides sizzle. The air charges and the world fades away. That fire, the one I once tamed like a wild colt flares, building and filling my core. I smile from the rush, my smile fading when the power escalates, charging out to my limbs like a wildfire. I startle as it releases, certain it’s going to be too much. But then I see the ribbon’s fraying edges ignite in a minute spray of white and blue.

  Yes!

  Nothing else matters, nothing but this small task. My fingertips quiver as I relax my hand, trying not to overdo the flame. My fire crawls up, as slow as a snail across the garden. But I don’t rush it. I have something to do and need to do it right.

  I’m not a lost cause or someone to pity. I’m Taran Wird, damn it, the loudmouth sister who always seems to screw up.

  But not today. Oh, no, not today.

  Sweat trickles down my back and between my breasts. My skin is soaked with the amount of focus I’m using to drive that miniscule bit of fire up.

  I’m halfway there. The ribbon is fragile, but still intact.

  “Come on, baby, don’t fail me now,” I say when the flame begins to sputter.

  More.

  Give me more.

  The flame catches before it fully fades. It’s so abrupt, I’m afraid it’s going to be too much and snap the ribbon. I ease it back down, willing it to listen.

  “Taran?” Shayna’s voice calls from far away.

  I almost lose control, but quickly regain it, sending the flame to smolder.

  “Taran.” This time it’s Emme.

  But I’m almost there, I can’t stop now.

  “Taran!” Celia is yelling, I think. Her voice sounds muffled, but I can’t be sure.

  I’m really dizzy now, so entranced by this ribbon and what I need to prove, their voices drift to the back of my mind.

  I think they’re still there, except I’m not sure. The outpouring of magic seeps through my pores, my concentration locked on the last inch of ribbon I need to burn.

  The flame reaches the top, catching on the nail. But the ribbon is still intact.

  I did it. Yes. I did it!

  Take that Vieve!

  The trance I’m in begins to clear in scattered pieces. At first all I see is fog. Lots of it. But it’s hot. Why the hell is the fog hot?

  Celia leaps in front of me, making me jump. She’s wearing some kind of oxygen mask and waving her hands wildly. Something bumps my leg. I jump again when I find Alice sitting at my feat, munching on a dead squirrel.

  The last bit of brain sludge loosens abruptly. A cacophony of screams, yelling, and roaring accompanies the hellish inferno surrounding me. This isn’t fog. It’s smoke.

  Blue and white smoke.

  I spin from side to side. Every last field in the compound is on fire. Weres and witches fall all over themselves, trying to control the blaze, the witches with their magic and weres with fire hoses and buckets of water.

  Flames, my flames, eat away the remains of Vieve’s house. The table—at least that’s what I think it is—the one she and Gemini were sitting at moments ago—lies in smoldering pieces, the fine china and crystal in shards.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Celia grabs my shoulders and turns me around to face her. “Are you all right?” she asks, barely audible through her mask.

  My eyes are the size of Vieve’s former dinner plates. I shake my head.

  “Dude!” Shayna says, her and Emme rushing forward.

  Ash and soot coat their clothes and faces. I can’t speak, I can’t even . . .

  Celia seems to understand, yelling to be heard through the mask. “You’ve been in a trance for two hours. No one could snap you out of it.” She points to the table. “You started by blasting the terrace with lightning and then set everything on fire.”

  I motion to the pole. “I was only trying to burn the little ribbon,” I say like a dumbass.

  “Taran,” she says. “You burned everything down.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” I manage, my voice shaking.

  “Um. No,” Shayna says coughing. “But T, the entire compound is destroyed. That’s like bad, even for you.”

  I glance around, barely believing it. There’
s fucking up, and then there’s this.

  “How the hell did I do this?” I ask, waving my arms. “I mean, shit.”

  Emme trudges forward, gripping my hand, her face as white as chalk. “Taran, whatever you were feeling when you were chanting fed every last plant, tree, and shrub in the compound in a bad way.”

  “A very, very, bad way, T,” Shayna says, smearing her face with more soot when she pushes away her bangs. “Whatever you gave them, they gave back to you, only like, a gazillion times more.”

  “I was only trying to burn the little ribbon,” I repeat, my voice a pathetic squeak.

  The crunching at my feet lures me back to Alice. “Why is she here?” I ask, panicked over the shitstorm of trouble I’m already in. But with Alice here. God damn it.

  “She wouldn’t stay behind and followed us here,” Emme says. “At first we thought she sensed your fire and was trying to die. But she only wanted to be with you.”

  Bren in his large wolf form races toward me, changing into his human half as he comes to a stop in front of me. “You’re awake?”

  I nod, but just barely.

  “Damn, baby,” he tells me. “You don’t do things halfway, do you?”

  I ignore him, pulling on Alice’s arm and trying to lift her to her feet. “We have to get her out of here before the witches see her,” I say. “I can’t let anything happen to her.”

  My sisters exchange glances, their expressions riddled with sadness. “Taran,” Celia says. “They’ve already seen it. All of it.”

  My stare drifts behind me when their eyes widen. Vieve stomps forward, her blood red gown in tatters and what remains of her hair singed to a giant frizzy knot. A cluster of weres rush her, only to yelp and soar outward when her talisman explodes with bright yellow light.

  “You—you!” she screams at me, pointing. “Only you could take sacred plants meant for healing and twist them into some fucked up version to tear me down!”

  Right now, as I stand here with my mouth dangling open and Alice finishing off her road kill dinner faithfully at my side, I’m not sure if I’m more stunned Vieve is screaming, that I’ve destroyed everything she holds dear, or that she said “fucked”.

  Regardless, I know I’m screwed. Oh, and she doesn’t stop there.

  “You demolished my ancestral home, reduced my sacred fields to ash, and set my garden ablaze. You are a walking disaster, a freak of nature. I’m done with you, you crazy bitch.”

  “Now, Genevieve,” Bren says, holding out his hands. “No need for name-calling girlfriend.”

  “Shut up, mongrel,” she snaps, causing the weres circling her to snarl. “You’re not fucking getting away with this,” she says whirling on me. “No way in hell are you walking out of this untouched.”

  The wolves draw closer, holding their ground, but not yet attacking. Aric and Gemini appear in a rush, positioning themselves in front of me.

  By the way the muscles along their broad backs stretch against their singed shirts, both appear livid. But this isn’t their fight, it’s mine.

  I try to step around them, but Gemini hauls me back. “Don’t move,” he warns.

  “Genevieve,” Aric says, keeping his gaze fixed on the bright yellow tendrils swirling from her talisman. “As Alpha and Leader, you have my word I’ll make amends—”

  “Amends?” she says, squaring her fury on him. “How will you amend all this!” she screams, waving her hands.

  Yeah, you can say Vieve has totally lost her shit.

  I don’t know all the supernatural rules, but I know enough to guess she has a right to challenge me and maybe even kill me without repercussions. My knuckles crack under the force of my dwindling power. Plant mojo or not, I’m not at my best. My energy has been sapped and my legs are feeling wobbly.

  But if she wants to fight, we’ll fight. I’m not rolling over for anyone, and no way will I let anyone suffer for my mistake.

  Gemini storms forward as her power lights up her form. “You swore to me you’d protect her,” he snarls. “You gave me your word as a friend that no harm would come to her.”

  “But she couldn’t show me the same respect back, could she?” Vieve says, the fury she’s feeling like drops of poison along each syllable. “She’s taken everything I have—everything that’s mine!”

  If he could, I suppose he’d tell her it was an accident, that I’d never intentionally do anything like this to anyone. But he doesn’t bother to explain or offer sympathy. Oh, no, whatever she wants to do to me, he can feel, and it stabs his words like a dagger from a killer’s blade. “You will not harm my mate,” he grinds out. “You will allow her to walk away.”

  “No, she’s not walking away unscathed.”

  Koda appears in his humongous red wolf form, growling deeply as he steps in front of Shayna and peeling back his fangs when she attempts to flank me. At the same time Bren wrenches Emme behind him. Celia . . . I lose her in a rush of fur and fangs as a pack of humongous beasts surround her.

  “Aric,” she calls.

  “Stay with them, love,” he tells her, his concentration fully on Vieve.

  My girls mean to protect me. They know this isn’t going to end well for were or witch alike. Not with the way the coven appears behind Vieve, and not by the cacophony of growls behind me.

  A line’s been drawn because of me. It’s no longer this harmonious union between those who worship the earth and those who guard it. Through my careless actions, I triggered the start of another supernatural war.

  But I can’t allow it.

  I shove my way forward. “This is my fault, my doing,” I say. “I take full responsibility.”

  Vieve, shifts her attention away from where it’s locked on Gemini. “I know it’s your fault. You’ve left me with nothing but a legacy in ruins.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it with all I have. “I’ll make it up to you anyway I can. But this thing between you and the weres, it can’t happen. Do you hear me, Genevieve? Don’t start something that will hurt you and your kind for decades to come because of something I did.”

  She’s listening, I can tell by the way the magic in her talisman seems to withdraw slightly. That doesn’t mean she’s any less pissed. “You want to make amends?” she asks.

  “I do,” I say, begging her to believe me.

  “Start with killing your familiar,” she tells me flatly.

  My eyes widen briefly, but voice is sure. “No.”

  “You can’t do one thing I ask, one thing,” she bites out. “Your insubordination and your mockery of our laws disgust me.”

  Alice whimpers behind me in that way she does when she’s scared or hurting. For all I think I fucked up, I’ll be damned if I hurt her.

  Gemini hooks my elbows lurching me back when I storm forward. I don’t even see Aric move, he’s just suddenly there, hauling Vieve away from me. I fight Gemini’s hold, struggling to break free. “Alice is not my enemy or my familiar. She’s my friend. Don’t you get it, she’s a lonely being who wouldn’t hurt anyone.” My voice gathers an edge. “And I’m not mocking anything—”

  “Then strike her down,” she snaps, cutting me off. “Give me something, Taran. Something that proves you’re as honorable as your mate has always claimed!”

  Her comment grips my throat. It’s not simply her acknowledging me and Gemini as one. It’s her believing who I am to him.

  I shove aside the emotions, speaking clearly so she won’t miss a word. “You can do whatever you want to me. You can punish me—you can even try to kill me. But you’re not hurting Alice or going to war with the Pack.”

  I mean to reach her, connect with her, or at the very least keep her attention on me. But she’s angry, and an angry witch is a dangerous witch, her rage blazing her power and lighting her talisman like a torch.

  Like rows of deadly dominoes, every witch in her coven follows suit. The air charges with magic as the weres gathered change, becoming fierce beasts bent on tasting blood.

  “Don
’t do this,” I yell. “Your battle is with me, not with them!”

  My hollers are overshadowed by the scream of someone running forward. Paula appears, tears zipping down her face as she carries a cardboard box dripping with blood. “Genevieve,” she sobs, not bothering to call her by title.

  The heated air around us dissipates and time slows. Paula falls at Vieve’s feet, offering the box with trembling hands. “A murder of crows delivered them,” she stammers, choking the words out.

  Them?

  Vieve bends forward, carefully pushing away the sides of the box. Her breath releases in pained bursts as she lifts the severed heads of her most trusted and strongest witches by their matted and blood soaked hair.

  The blonde opens her eyes, her dead stare lifting to the sky. Dark liquid spills along her chin as her mouth opens and closes like a marionette.

  “We’re coming for you, Genevieve,” her deep and haunting voice says. “All of you.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Since the dawn of time, there’s always been a huge divide among classes: Rich and poor. Dark and light. Brave and weak. It’s an “us” versus “them” mentality that doesn’t seem to end. I don’t think I’ve ever felt it as strongly as I have since first stepping foot on Vieve’s compound all those weeks ago.

  The Lessers are named as such for a reason. Their magic is limited and so is their ability to strengthen and master what little they possess. The Superiors . . . what can I say? The name speaks of who they are among their kind and what they can do.

  But as the Superiors and Lessers form a circle and clasp hands over where Vieve’s grand garden once stood, for the moment that divide is erased.

  I’ve seen witches make it rain to wash away the remnants of darkness. It takes thirteen to call upon the power of nature like that, yet to cleanse an inferno like the one I created takes a great deal more. So much more they couldn’t manage until Savana gave them what they needed.