by Hadena James
All the links to the Rogue Coven were gone, dead. Like so many others, they had been slaughtered in the name of saving the world. I felt the guilt of their sins. Removing the Great Houses was just another chess move, but since I couldn’t see the end game, I couldn’t think of a way to stop it.
My mother believed forty was just a fraction of the Coven size. The thought was terrifying. The ten Great Houses had comprised just over 250 members. Some of the Houses, like my own, were growing in strength as well as numbers. Others had been shrinking, like the Edelstein’s. We didn’t keep a Witch directory. We didn’t know for sure how many Lesser Witches were in the world. We just knew they outnumbered us at least ten to one.
Yet, Simona Illayanevna had been a member of a Great House. She was dead. She was part of the Rogue Coven. How many other Great House Witches were involved in this plot?
As the water cooled, it soothed my skin, but it was already healing itself. My penance hadn’t lasted very long, a few minutes, no more. It did nothing to soothe my brain, it felt feverish with thoughts and emotions. Each running through it at the speed of light, creating new scenarios, new horror stories.
And how did it tie into my soulless nephew? Had he been a coincidence made into a bigger problem because we were already jumping at shadows or was there something more sinister going on?
Again I was at an impasse, too many questions and not enough answers. Then the shattered psyche of Simona Illayanevna came back to me. She would have told all at that point. She would have sold out everyone to relieve her shattered soul. The Witch in me had felt her horror, her shame, her humiliation, her hatred, her feelings of betrayal and fear, but worse, I had felt her feel comforted by my touch. The touch of a Demon, intent to kill her if she posed a threat, yet she had found comfort.
Another question, had she been hoping I would kill her, release her from her torment? Or had the comfort come from knowing that whatever I did would not be as bad as the minotaur? I sat down in the shower and cried. My soul begging that her own had found comfort in death. Comfort from the horrors she had experienced.
Chapter Twenty-One
Neither the crying nor the shower made me feel any better. I had dressed and hidden in my room for the rest of the night. Sleep had been fleeting; coming and going as I tossed and turned and dreamed about the look on Simona’s face.
The dawning of the sun did nothing to improve my mood. The sun might have been bright and bringing the promise of a beautiful day, but I felt like clouds had descended upon me. It needed to be raining, that might have made me feel better.
“Brenna?” Fenrir’s voice came through the door.
“Whatever it is, it can wait or it can go away,” I told him without rolling over.
“Bren,” the door opened. Fenrir’s dark colored hair and stony features came into view. He wasn’t smiling. This wasn’t unusual for Fenrir, but smiling made him look centuries younger.
“Go away, wolf,” I told him.
“Insults first thing in the morning, that isn’t like you.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know how you are doing. How do you feel?”
“I feel terrible, how do you expect me to feel?”
“About the Witch, the one that came to you for help?”
“About all of it. Everything we did was pointless. The Great House fell, our link to the coven died and I helped make an entire species extinct. It doesn’t matter that they were horrid hideous creatures. They no longer exist because of me. And what did I accomplish? Nothing. The city was damaged. The House fell. Simona Illayanevna died. It was a dark day with dark deeds and an even darker ending.”
“Shit happens, Brenna, especially when the world is in chaos.”
“And we have a dozen pregnant Elders and a Rogue Coven that could make life very interesting.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, they found a spell to turn Elders to dust. Even my mother didn’t know it existed. You think they can’t stop a soul from forming and fill the vessel with another? A disturbed soul? Every time we think we get a step ahead, we actually fall a step or two behind. I don’t know if Rachel’s baby was a fluke, but I’m willing to bet that it wasn’t. Not considering the strength of the Coven and what they were willing to do to achieve the fall of a Great House.”
“So what, you’re going to lay around all day feeling sorry for yourself?” Fenrir asked.
“It is a distinct possibility.”
“What do you intend to achieve by that?”
“I don’t know that I will achieve anything by it, but maybe tomorrow will be better.”
“Or maybe it will be another shitty day. Lying around isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
“Go away,” I told him, pulling the covers up over my head.
I waited until I heard him leave. He was right. I knew that lying around wasn’t going to get us anywhere. There was something I could do. Grudgingly, but with purpose, I climbed from the bed and dug out my spell book.
“Morning,” Ezra said to me.
“Good morning,” I responded to the soul trapped in my book.
“Whatcha need?”
“I’m wondering about the dusting spell they are using. Have you ever heard of anything like it?”
“No, not that I remember, but Witches have always had a strange impact on Elders. It’s the nature of the thing. Elders have the ability to command and lead Humans and Witches, especially since they are immortal. Humans have the ability to kill Witches that are out of control. Witches have the ability to impact Elders. It’s a built in system of checks and balances.”
“Ok, but how many spells can kill an Elder.”
“None.”
“That’s just it, this one does.”
“How?”
“It turns the Elder to dust and they blow away.”
“Are you sure it is killing them?”
“They disappear.”
“Right, but are you sure it is killing them or just removing their bodies?”
“Uh, well, we haven’t seen them since they were dusted.”
“That doesn’t mean they are dead.”
“Well what does it mean?”
“Don’t snap at me, young lady. Things are never what they seem to be when dealing with Witches and Elders, you should know that by now.”
“Sorry, my apologies. If it isn’t killing them, what is it doing?”
“Removing the corporeal form from their souls.”
“AKA killing them,” I said slowly.
“Good grief,” Ezra rolled his eyes. “You should know by now that you don’t have to have a body to be alive. Look at me. Look at Sonnellion.”
“Sonnellion was dead.”
“No, Sonnellion was like me, not dead, just not corporeal. However, I got a spell book and Nick got Sonnellion a body. Neither of us were dead dead.”
“Dead dead?” I frowned.
“Notice that your dresser doesn’t have features? No eyes, no mouth, nothing that resembles the being he used to be?”
“Yes.”
“That’s because he is dead, well and truly dead. The soul went onto another plane of existence and existed there until you came along. The same is not true of me. I was never dead. No one killed me. They just took my soul from my body and shoved it into this spell book. I have eyes, a mouth, a nose, and a brain. I am not what I used to be, that’s for sure, but I’m also not dead. I still have magic. The same for Sonnellion. He was never dead; he just wasn’t among the living like you were. That’s why he still had all his magic. He seems to have been forced into a reality that consisted of dreams. I don’t know all the ins and outs of it, I never died, I don’t have universal knowledge. The same goes for Sonnellion. The reason the world is still foreign and strange is because he doesn’t possess universal knowledge, he never died. Lucifer separated his soul from his body. Without the soul, the body died, but the soul doesn’t require the body to live. So he lived on for eons, waitin
g for someone like Nick to do something like Nick did. So, I’ll ask again, are you sure they are dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if they aren’t dead, they can be brought back.”
“How?”
“Someone like Nick does what Nick does and viola.”
“You keep saying someone like Nick, have there been others like Nick?”
“Yes. None of you are that original. The world doesn’t work that way. There have been others like Nick, others that could create bodies for souls that have been disincorporated. It does happen.”
“Ok, wait. The spell didn’t work on Sonnellion or the Gargoyles.”
“That’s because Sonnellion isn’t flesh and blood like we think of him. His body is still evolving into something organic. And Gargoyles have multiple skins and multiple organs that they shed when they turn to stone. It isn’t just the outside, everything but their hearts become stone, however a protective stone cover goes around the heart. So hitting a Gargoyle with a spell that causes organic matter to turn to dust would be redundant, because they do that anyway and as I said, Sonnellion still isn’t completely organic.”
“What is he if he isn’t organic?”
“Magic, Brenna.”
I shook my head and closed my eyes. That was a lot to think about. I was sure there was something metaphysical involved, but wrapping my mind around it would require a great deal of effort. There were moments when I felt like a failure as an Elder and Witch. Both were metaphysical and paranormal, but despite having the genes, I occasionally stumbled when I needed to understand it.
“So, why wouldn’t the Elders know this?” I finally asked.
“Because they don’t really comprehend Witches. Your siblings and you are their test run, for lack of a better term, we’ve never had many Witches that bred with Elders. It has happened, but not very successfully.”
“Then Nick’s power of resurrection is Witch related?”
“No, it’s all Elder, but it only happens to Witch/Elder half breeds and there haven’t been a lot of them that lived very long.”
“I’m still confused,” I admitted.
“In two or three hundred years, you won’t be.”
“I don’t have two or three hundred years. I need to start getting this sorted now, Ezra.”
“Fine. Nick’s power to create bodies for the corporeally challenged is an Elder power, but one that is rare. It only seems to happen to Witch/Elder half breeds. I don’t know why. No one else knows why and we don’t understand it. It isn’t actually resurrection, that is something dark and evil. Although, as I’m stuck in this book, one could argue that the entire thing is dark and possibly evil.”
“Stick to the point.”
“Sorry, Nick can either put a disincorporated soul into something, like me or create a new body like Sonnellion.”
“So, if the Elders aren’t really dead, then Nick could, in theory, give them new bodies.”
“Yes, but he would have to create exact replicas or the soul won’t inhabit them, unless they are forced into it, like with me. When he created Sonnellion, whatever innate genetic picture of Sonnellion that exists in Nick because they are kinfolk, created the perfect body. So Sonnellion’s soul was attracted to it and reattached itself when it felt like it was home.”
“This is too weird.”
“It is weird.”
“Why can’t Anubis or any of the other Vampires see them?”
“Because they aren’t dead souls. They are living souls that are homeless.”
“I’m starting to get a headache.”
“Me too.”
I looked at Ezra and smiled.
“We are talking about magic that hasn’t been performed in millennia, Brenna. Several millennia, possibly longer. It was never done in my time or since my time. It isn’t like there’s a lot of records to go on or information to scavenge about it. I just know that Sonnellion isn’t the first and he probably won’t be the last and it doesn’t work with dead souls.”
“Which means in theory, Nick can bring back all the Elders dusted by the Witches.”
“Yes it does.”
“I wonder how Nick is going to feel about that?”
“I imagine it will stress him out.”
“It would stress me out.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me to find that the living souls that are homeless are hanging around Nick.”
“That would really stress him out,” I remarked.
“Yes, yes it would. But living souls always try to find a way.”
“How did Nick create a body for Sonnellion?”
“Stress reaction to the soul of his uncle being brought from the Box, if I had to guess.”
“Could the Box help us?”
“No, it is a dangerous thing that cannot be controlled.”
“What about Cerebus? Nick said he felt he could control Cerebus.”
“Cerebus is a soul trapped in a dog.”
“A living soul trapped in a dog?”
“A living soul of a being trapped in a dog.”
“That would explain why he is cranky.”
“He was cranky long before he became the hell hound.”
“Did you know him?”
“Not personally, but remember what I said, Sonnellion wasn’t the first. There were a few before him. Cerebus is one of them.”
“Who was he?”
“It doesn’t matter. The Elder world doesn’t know it and they don’t need to know it. They would get pretty pissed if they did. The world at large doesn’t need to know either. It’s just best if everyone believes him to be Cerebus.”
“One day, if the information becomes pertinent?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Good to know,” I got off the floor. “So this dusting spell, every heard of anything like it?”
“Not exactly, but Witches have been searching for ways to kill Elders for as long as we’ve both existed. None have worked, a few have thought it did. There aren’t a lot of living souls wandering the universe, but there are enough for me to know that this spell is probably a variation of an older one that does the same thing. But it was probably banned before the Egyptians lost Egypt and forgotten until some enterprising Witch dug up a spell book that should have remained hidden.”
“Are there very many of those?”
“A dozen or so.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Spell books are just spell books. What’s inside them differs as they pass from generation to generation. A few were hidden away because the Great House or the Witch that created them were doing nothing but practicing dark magic. Humans, Elders, Witches, we all have our darker sides that we try to keep hidden.”
“I’m not sure any of this is helpful,” I admitted.
“Knowledge is power,” Ezra responded.
“Yes, but figuring out how to use the knowledge is another matter.”
“That’s for you to figure out. I’m sure you will. You aren’t always the sharpest tack in the box, but you have a purpose and you fulfill your role as need be.”
“Uh, thanks, I think.”
“It wasn’t an insult. You are on a very steep learning curve; most of these beings have had decades or centuries to prepare for this. You’ve been at it for barely a year. That’s a lot to learn in a short amount of time, but when you need it, it’s always there for you.”
That brought the image of Magnus into my mind. Something nagged at me.
“Hey, Ezra, one last thing,” I turned to the spell book again.
“Sure.”
“Witches that become mated to Elders. Does fire kill them?”
“Nothing kills them, except an Overlord.”
“So, if we burned Magnus’s body after chopping off his head?”
“If he was immortal, he isn’t dead.”
“That’s good to know.”
I rushed out of my room yelling for Anubis and Fenrir. I found both of them in the living room, t
heir eyes wide, staring at me. I took a deep breath.
“Ok, I was talking to Ezra. I don’t think the Witches’ Council killed Magnus. Sure they beheaded him and roasted him, but he was immortal. That’s why he was pissed. Only an Overlord could kill him, the one that would be his when he mated with an Elder. But we don’t know who that Overlord is because he isn’t yet mated. Plus, Ezra said he didn’t think the dusting spell was killing Elders, he thinks it is just making their souls homeless. So if Nick can do for them what he did for Sonnellion, they can be brought back.”
“Slow down, Bren, I know breathing isn’t that big of a deal, but it helps when talking,” Anubis told me.
“I’m not repeating it,” I huffed at him.
“I didn’t ask you to repeat it. I asked you to slow down. Ezra thinks that Magnus and the other Elders are still alive?”
“Yes,” I told him.
“How would that be possible?” Fenrir asked.
“Well, Magnus was immortal,” I shrugged.
“And that…” Anubis’s sentence was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.
We all looked at the front door. It rang a second time. The third ring came almost immediately upon the ending of the second. Whoever it was seemed to be leaning on the bell.
Fenrir got up and answered it. A very agitated Pendragon walked into the room. He was dusting off his clothes and mumbling to himself.
“Uther?” Anubis asked.
“I hate that I can’t teleport into this house and I hate that I keep forgetting it. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to slam into the outside walls of this place? I feel like Wily E. Coyote sliding down the exterior.”
“I’m not nearly as disappointed with it as you are,” I told him.
“I imagine not. Well, you are being requested on The Island. Hannah has gone into labor,” Pendragon turned all his attention to me.
“Uh, yeah, I did that once. I wasn’t all that interested in sitting through a repeat of it.”
“I don’t think it was optional. Elise told me quite firmly that I was to grab you and take you back screaming and kicking if you refused to come,” Pendragon looked at me.
I already knew he could take me in a contest of brute strength. He could probably out maneuver me with magic as well. Plus, I’d have to answer to my mother when I arrived hog-tied and gagged.
