by David James
“Kate,” Calum said. “You don’t need to do this. We just need to find out the prophecy and let her unbind me then we can go. I’ll pay the price. Let me do this. You know who you are already.”
But I didn’t.
Not ever.
Not really.
My heart weighing me down, I said, “I’ll pay it.”
“Kate!”
“I have to, Calum. I have to.”
“Without even knowing the price?” Magda asked.
“Name it then,” I sneered, but I knew the price meant nothing; I would do this if it meant my life. “How much blood will it cost for me to know the truth about my parents and me.”
Magda’s tongue ran across the stubs of her teeth, sliding against them like a black leech against jagged rock. She said, “Not how these spells work, child. To know the truth you must be willing to give everything you’s got. Sometimes it’s until your heart stops. Sometimes it’s just a drop. The blood will know the price. All we need to do is let it flow.”
I nodded. “Fine.”
“Come then,” she said and ran a finger down my arm. Cold. Cold. Cold skin against mine. She squeezed my hand and pointed to a broken brown leather chair in the corner. “Sit over there next to the table.”
I walked forward. Cuts and tears split the chair like a puzzle, pieces of yellow foam poking out from distressed hide. I could see lines and lines of coarse rips where hands might rest. Red stains where wrists might lay. Beaded blood in the seat, dried and hard.
Against everything, I sat, the chair and the blood cracking beneath me.
Magda looked around the room as if she’d forgotten I was there. She muttered to herself, words like wind in a quiet storm, and walked over to the round table in the center of the room where she lit white candles to burn around a tan bowl, dripping wax down to the wood. She flipped through a book covered in deep brown leather; dust rose and blended with the glow from the candles.
“Kate.” Calum came to stand beside me. He kneeled and said, “Are you sure about this? You don’t even know how much blood she’ll take.”
“I have to,” I said again.
He nodded. “I know.” And then, “You could die.”
I met his eyes. “So could you.”
“I know.”
“This is something good,” I said. “We need to do this. I need to do this.”
“Good is just another shade of evil,” Magda chuckled. “No such thing as black and white, you know. Good or evil. We all bleed the same. In this world there’s only life and death, and those in between. Soon the lines will blur for you’s. Always do.” She ran a crooked finger down a page, her rings bursting with light so close to the candles. Her lips puckered as she searched. Her hand moved toward a yellow bag on the table. She undid the neat twine holding it together and let a mountain of tiny teeth form on the table. Black fingers taking hold, she closed a fist around a pile and brought her hand to her mouth, crunching down on the teeth. Bones breaking in her mouth, she smiled.
“There you are,” Magda whispered, her face so close to the book it blew more dust into the air; bits of teeth puffing out. A low hunger in her voice. “Been so long since I seen you. Forgot what you look like. What you sound like. Such beauty in this spell.” She lifted the bowl into the air with both hands and turned to me, her eyes glinting madness. “You ready to know the truth?”
No, I thought. No, I’m not ready.
“You could die.”
And then it would all be for nothing.
This is too much.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m ready.”
Magda, her crusted dress crinkling as she walked, stepped slowly over to where I sat, every step echoing in the unhallowed church.
“Put your arm over this bowl,” she said, putting the tanned basin stained red on the table next to me.
My arm touched the gritty surface. This close, I could see the smiling skulls carved in the sides of the bowl, and I thought of the Order. Of the Warrior skulls leading down to the table where the Elder Council sat. Of Gae. Of Marcus. Of the blood we once shared so long ago, and if that ritual was like this one.
If that one had a price, too.
But as Magda pulled a white, bone knife from her sleeve, I knew that this time was not like the last.
“Is this like a blood oath?” I asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “It is not. You have experience in blood words, girl?”
“No,” I lied.
She smiled. “Mmm.”
I closed my eyes.
I felt the knife slide across my wrist: Fire on fire on fire. And then as soon as the blade cut me, it was gone, and there was nothing but a faint tingle of pain where a slice of it once was.
I turned.
I looked.
Red was born from the slit, flowing up like some living thing breathing. Tiny rivers of blood trailed down my palm to my fingers and dripped into the bowl.
Drip.
Magda dipped a shaking finger into the bowl of my blood. She touched a drop to my forehead, and then dotted the lids of her eyes with red, bloody circles.
She whispered, “Blood is my eyes.”
Drip.
She ran a finger over the black of her lips, coating them in shining red. “Blood is my lips.”
Drip.
Her tongue unraveled slowly from her mouth, black as her lips, and she made a line of red down it. “Blood is my tongue.”
Drip
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Seven drops was my price.
Smiling, she picked up the bowl and touched the tip of it to her lips.
“Blood is my voice,” she said.
She drank.
I watched as lines of my blood etched her chin in dark red.
She screamed.
Her whole body began to shake. I heard her bones rattle, quake beneath her flesh. Ripples of muscle began to run across her skin, moving like snakes beneath a dark sea. She threw her hands down on the table, her head jerking out, crying into the clouded air.
The dust seemed to swirl as though alive, making shapes in the dim light with bits of chewed teeth. I saw a scene begin to shape before me. The dust became a tornado. It moved toward us, faster and faster. Magda’s voice grasped the air on a crescendo until her voice began to sound like thousands.
Blood. All I could think of was blood.
Then, just as the candles blew out and the room went dark, Magda touched a bloody finger to my forehead and I found myself screaming as the blood dripped down.
“This is the only way, Christopher,” she said. “We have to keep our daughter safe. You know this is the only way to protect Kate.”
Christopher nodded, his lips a tight line. “I know, Ema. But I don’t like it.”
Her smile was sad, worn. “Neither do I, but Brigid and that young Warrior, Gae, promised us that Magdaline would protect her.”
“I still hate that we have to trust a witch,” he said. “It’s insane.”
“I trust her.” She poked him in the stomach. Her brown eyes wild like her voice, she asked, “And what are you saying, Chris? My whole family is insane? That we’ll all turn out like my mother?”
Christopher sighed, his full, deeply red lips pulling down to a frown. His pale face was beginning to look older than it was, as though time had taken him hostage and wasn’t letting go without a price. “Ema, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I won’t deny I’m glad it was Magda who inherited the curse and not you. It’s just that all that blood takes a toll on a person. I worry.”
“Blood takes a toll on us, too, Chris. It has since we joined this cause. Since we met. We’ve been Warriors ten years too long.”
“I know,” he said. “I hate that this is your life, especially now.”
“It’s yours too.”
“But you had a choice,” he said as he ran a finger down her long brown hair. “I didn’t. It’s always been my fate to become a Warrior. My legacy.”
Emaline touched his face. “And this is our legacy, Chris. Our daughter’s. You saw her eyes. We can’t just ignore what she is.”
“I don’t want to ignore it, Ema! But look at Magda. All that blood has made her crazy, and it drives me to the brink of insanity thinking about what might happen to our Kate.”
Emaline was quiet for a minute, and then, “Magda’s my sister, Christopher. I have to believe that she won’t bring harm to our daughter. I have to trust her.”
“You don’t have to trust Magda just because she’s your sister. That’s not the way family works. Someone might be born into your family, but they have to earn the right to stay there. You know what that blood magic does to your sister. The burden she carries is too much. She can’t control herself. Her mind was lost years ago.”
Emaline said, “What about our daughter then? She’s only seven, a child. If you think Magdaline is so lost, what about Kate?”
Christopher’s eyes were stone. “Our daughter is different, Ema. Even Brigid says so, and Gae claims she’s never seen a child so strong. Kate will be able to handle the curse, I promise you. That’s why we agreed not to tell her about Magda, so she won’t be tempted by any influence from your sister. Kate won’t lose herself to the blood. She’s strong.”
Emaline asked, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because she has to be.”
“Still,” Emaline whispered, one hand touching Christopher’s, the other moving slowly over her swollen stomach. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Kate’s so young, and we’ll have two others any day now.”
“It’s right,” Christopher said. “I can feel it. You know as well as I do that even without Kate’s curse the Order would still be a problem. It’s corrupt. It’s dying. We need to do this to save it.”
Emaline tilted her head. “You really think Brigid’s right? That the Orieno have already taken control of the Warriors and the Elder council?”
Christopher was silent. And then, “I’ve seen it, Em. I’ve seen the fire in their eyes, all of them. I’ve seen the way Marcus has changed. He’s not the Elder he was when we first started. Brigid thinks he’s possessed by Morphis.”
Emaline clasped a hand over her mouth. “No!”
“Worse,” Christopher said, his voice low. “Brigid thinks that this is just the beginning. She doesn’t have the power to heal what the Orieno can do. Both she and Gae are the only ones left unchanged amongst the damned.”
“Then how can we stop them, Chris? Even if we destroy the Warriors and the Elders, we still can’t defeat the Siblings. They’re too powerful. The Order is already too small in numbers now. What do we do when we cut it down by more than half?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are we going to do it? We have children, Chris. We have lives already. Let’s just stay where we are.”
“We can’t,” Christopher said. “Don’t you see that? If we let things stay the way they are, we will never get the chance to be happy. We’ll never, ever have the family we want. Brigid has assured me of that. She told me the prophecy.”
Emaline gripped his hand, her dark skin blending with his light. “She did? But that’s impossible. How? Only Magda is allowed to know.”
“Magda is on our side. She and Brigid have been planning this for years, since Magda moved to Ashfall.”
“What did the prophecy say?” she asked. “Do we have a plan?”
“Yes, we do,” Christopher said and turned his head away.
“Well, what is it? What did it say?”“It’s not important.”
“Christopher. What did it say?”
“Nothing.”
“Christopher.”
“Emaline.”
“Tell me!”
“No.”
There was silence.
Nothing.
And then,“It’s about Kate isn’t it.”
Christopher’s eyes were red when he met Emaline’s. He choked out, “Yes.”
“Tell. Me.”
Christopher swallowed. “Brigid says that she is destined to take Magda’s place as Woman of Prophecy, that Kate will be one of two to stop this all. Brigid says that you and I are destined to carry out her plan. We are meant to take so many lives in order to protect our child’s future. If we don’t, they’ll take her. Brigid says there’s a plan to kidnap Kate and use her power against the remaining Order members. Gae has promised to keep her safe, but our daughter won’t have a chance to live if we don’t act soon.”
“Okay. Okay.” Emaline’s hands were shaking. “What do you mean one of two?”
“That’s why it’s so important for us to follow Brigid’s plan. There is a boy who will join Kate as part of her destiny. We must save him. He is the Dreamer. We can’t let the corrupt find him, for that’s when they will kill your sister and use Kate’s powers against the world. We have to protect them both, and our plan is the only way to do it. We have to give them both those few years to live before everything changes. Magda will perform a binding spell on the boy so he won’t be able use any of his powers until she undoes the spell. He should be safe until then.”
“And what of Kate? What does she have to do with all of this?”
“There are two, Ema, always two: The Dreamer and the Destroyer. That’s what the prophecy foretold. That’s what Magda warned Brigid against.”
“But... that means...”
“Emaline. Don’t think about it, please.”
“If... if the boy is the Dreamer then...”
Their hands together.
Eyes locked.
Hearts broken.
Emaline whispered, “Our daughter, Chris.”
Christopher said, “If the boy is the Dreamer, then Kate is the Destroyer. She is the one who will end us all.”
~
My eyes blinked open, and all I saw were Magda’s looking back. And in that dark, violet fever I saw myself. My past and my future.
My beginning.
“Now you know they loved you,” Magda said.
-Calum-
My words dropped like rocky cliffs breaking, falling into a still and quiet ocean, rippling waves out until they were nothing but tiny lifts against the horizon. Lost, hopeless words. I said, “That’s not true. Kate, don’t listen to her. It’s not true.”
The screaming still rang in my ears. Magda’s voice painting pictures against Kate’s wordless yells. Blood sliding down their faces, puddling just above their lips before falling further. Eyes white and wild, spinning madly.
“It can’t be true,” I said.
Magda licked her bloodstained lips, and her tongue raced over the black and red. She fell to her back, fingers dancing across her body where blood was splattered, writhing on the floor moaning for more.
Shaking, she said, “It is, boy. It’s all true. Blood never lies.”
-Kate-
Adam.
“You know they love you,” I told him, my hand stretching against his.
He said, “Maybe. But there are a thousand different kinds of love, Kate, and my parents don’t love me like yours love you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your parents would do anything for you,” he said. He ran a hand down my spine, tickling me. “They love you more than you know. Mine, on the other hand, just want me to follow in their footsteps. Be a fighter. Be someone I don’t want to be.”
“But they’d understand if you told them, right? I mean, they wouldn’t want you to be someone you’re not. They’re your parents.”
He laughed, sad and high like a dove shot from the sky. “I love how you are sometimes, Kate. Filled with hope, just waiting for good to happen. The world needs more people like you.”
“I’m serious!” I said. “I bet your parents would understand.”
“They wouldn’t,” he said. “You’ve never met them, Kate. They wouldn’t understand at all.”
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
He was quiet,
and there was no sound between us except for the soft brush of his nails against my dress.
And then, his voice like a secret, he whispered, “I know, Kate, because they said if I don’t become who they want, they’ll kill me. I don’t have a choice when it comes to destiny. I don’t know if anyone really does. My life has been decided for me and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Just wait and see.”
I moved closer to him, hugging my body against his warmth. “They wouldn’t kill you, Adam.”
“They would, Kate. You don’t know.” His chest fell with his words, rising only in between. “The people they work for are ruthless. Savages. They would kill me in a heartbeat if I didn’t become one of them.”
“Become one of what? A savage? I might not know your parents but I’ve known you for almost a year, Adam. You could never be a savage.”
“We’re all savages, Kate. All of us. Just like love, people come in all different shades, but deep down we’re all the same: Savage and brutal and heartless. And I love that you think I’m different but I’m not. Soon, I won’t even have a choice. We can’t stay the same forever; I’m just waiting for the moment when my life changes.”
“You won’t change. I can’t believe that,” I said. “What exactly do your parents do, anyway? Who are they?”
“I can’t tell you,” he said. “I can’t tell you what I’ll become.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t. I’m sorry, Kate. Be happy your parents are different. They love you. Just be happy you can be anything you want.”
~
When I opened my mouth, a drop of my blood slid down my throat and stole my voice, my words. It sank to the bottom of my chest where my heart beat and waited.
I waited. The blood waited.
Chapter Sixteen
Truth Like Poison
-Calum-
“The blood,” Magda said, her voice shaking with one word that fell in whispers: Blood.
