Everwish: The Primati Witches Book One

by Amelia Oz

  "Thank you," she said softly. Silvan smiled sweetly and then began heating up large chunks of leftover meatloaf in the microwave.

  "Oh, and Stella—I'm staying over tonight. Uncle Remi got caught breaking parole this morning, so I volunteered to be your bodyguard today," Silvan said over his shoulder with a wiggle of eyebrows. Amanda choked on her water. I decided to focus on one problem at a time. Mahari's ridiculous games would wait.

  "Are you hungry?" I asked. She nodded around her water glass. Amanda avoided meat, so I made her thick slabs of toast with honey and then peeled two apples.

  "Silvan do you want to come upstairs with us?" We watched in fascination as Silvan shoveled in bites of meatloaf larger than his mouth. Cheeks bulging, he glanced between Amanda's lowered gaze and my face and shook his head. I burned with questions but she seemed too fragile for an interrogation just yet.

  Amanda rose stiffly, favoring her side. She kept the icepack while I carried her plate and a fresh glass of water to my room. As soon as we reached the top of the stairs she headed for my bathroom.

  "Would you like to take a shower?" I asked her through the unpainted door.

  Her voice was faint but enthusiastic. "God, yes. Can I borrow some clothes?"

  I turned but then a terrible thought came to me.

  "Amanda—is there any reason why you should hold off taking a shower until after we go to the hospital and file a police report?"

  The door jerked open so fast I nearly fell. Her eyes were wild again.

  "No police! No way. I haven't been assaulted that way, okay? Please, just don't call anyone. Please, Stella!" Relief hit and I nodded.

  I brought her a pair of my capri leggings and an oversized Dunder Mifflin t-shirt with a new pair of underwear. She didn't speak but nodded her thanks before disappearing behind the door again.

  "Just don't lock the door," I called. "If you fall, I'm not sure Silvan and I could break the door down." She sniggered. The sound was better than any assurance she could give, and I felt a fission of hope that she might really be okay.

  I tidied my room while she showered, knowing if I didn’t that Amanda and her OCD would do it for me. Quicker than I expected, she resurfaced with wet, dark hair combed behind her shoulders. She joined me on my bed where we sat cross legged across from one another, just like we used to. I could tell by her cautious movements that her ribs were hurting. I would have to find some way to convince her to go to the hospital.

  "Thank you, Stella." she said, before taking several quick bites of toast. I'd added two pain relief tablets to her plate and was pleased when she took them. When most of her food was gone she sighed and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  "You make great bread," she complimented. Amanda pushed the plate to the side and took off her necklace. It was one she wore every day, the amethyst about half the size of my pinkie finger. She exhaled in a rush and sat up straighter.

  "Stella, you are the only sister I've ever known. We became friends before I knew any of the stuff that I'm about to tell you," she began.

  Uh oh. This felt like a warm up before the curveball.

  "When everything happened at the river, it was the first time I saw you do anything like it. When you jumped from the cliff, Marcus was telling the truth. You didn't fall like a normal person influenced by gravity. You literally floated most of the way down. Do you remember feeling anything different?"

  I shook my head, my eyelids prickling with heat. Hearing Amanda tell me this made everything else I'd been told in the last twenty-four hours seem possible and much more real. She sighed.

  "The man we met on our hike, Marcus, is a sorcerer," Amanda rushed out. She paused with a wince, as if expecting me to interrupt. I waved impatiently for her to keep going.

  "Which is a magical dude on the dark side. They usually follow the law but have big egos. If they go mercenary it's hard to catch them. Once they sign a contract with a client, the best ones never give up." She paused and I knew that look well enough. She was about to say something I wouldn't like.

  "I know this because I'm a witch myself. So is Mom. There are five different clans of witches, and each have a kinship to an element.

  "Mom and I are water witches. That was why I had you stand in the water. Water witches can transfer only through flowing water. Rivers, creeks, oceans. Marcus realized who I was by my clan mark." She held up her tattoo of blue waves. "If he tried to take you, I was prepared to transfer you somewhere safe. If he touched the water, I'm pretty sure I could have transferred him somewhere else. Transferring is when—"

  "I know what transferring is."

  Amanda pressed her tongue into her cheek and slapped her knees. "Right. Thomas must have explained that. Okay, then. You asked me why you couldn't move. I'm not as old or skilled as Marcus, so I couldn't prevent what happened. He used his power to convince your mind to follow his instructions. He tried to force you to come to him and to give him information. I counteracted it. I actually tried to make him leave, but he was too strong for me." A shadow crossed her face.

  "I tasted it," I whispered. She nodded.

  "Our magic has a flavor when used to take someone's will. Marcus is an earth sorcerer. Their magic often tastes of burnt wood. We're not supposed to use it. Taking someone's free will is a terrible breach of etiquette. It can actually be a cause for defense if one witch murders another. If their memory can be read and it's confirmed they were forced to do something harmful against their will then the influencing witch could be put to death, depending on the crime.

  "It rarely goes to trial or is made public, because if you're too weak to ward off someone taking over your will then you are not likely going to survive the encounter to tell about it. Either because the perpetrator wants you dead or because your own coven puts you down for being a weak link capable of placing them all in danger."

  I shuddered, remembering the taste and the awful feeling of not being able to control my own body. If what she was saying was true, being a witch carried enormous risks. A lot scarier than I'd imagined.

  "If you are water and Marcus is earth, then what are the other three?"

  "Next is the air clan-they live mainly in Europe and the poles. Then there are the Fire witches, who I’ve never met and are kind of persona non grata for the last few centuries. They can transfer through flame. A group of them tried to raise demons on this plane and the experiment did not go well." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Right. Those pesky fire witches and their crazy ideas.

  "The fifth clan is Spirit. These are nearly extinct and rumor has it they can transfer through living trees. American Indian shamans and a tiny group of Buddhists are the only ones I'd heard mentioned who could do this before I met Thomas. Was he able to tell you everything?"

  "If by everything you mean about the curse, then yes," I said.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I thought having Thomas show you his grove might help you believe it's real. You're a show-me kind of girl."

  She did know me well. I quieted, realizing just how little I knew about my closest friend. She knew how much I valued honesty, and yet she'd been forced to keep secrets. I loved solitude and getting wrapped up in my art. And all this time, Amanda had been adjusting to an entirely different world. I felt disconnected and sad. How could I have been such a bad friend not to notice?

  "What about George? Does he know about all this?" Amanda's Dad was the most normal guy on the planet. I couldn't imagine him being part of all this.

  "Dad knows. He's not a witch but male witches or wizards in general are highly regarded, because there are fewer of them and they tend to be powerful."

  "Speaking of which, pun intended..." Amanda removed her necklace and held it cupped in her hands. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers along the violet prism. She frowned slightly but then something happened. The crystal grew, lengthening into a glowing purple cylinder roughly the size of a conductor's baton. Tossing it, she caught it in one hand, an
d waved it gracefully before my incredulous eyes.

  "This, Stella, is my "Pagatio," or wand. Most witches have them. They are concealed as stones or crystals and only reveal themselves to their witch soulmate."

  "That is the coolest thing I've ever seen." I wanted to touch it but was afraid I might get zapped. The bar of amethyst literally shimmered with energy.

  Amanda giggled. "Isn't it! When I got it at thirteen, I wanted to tell you everything, but Mom wouldn't let me. There are all kinds of ceremonies and instruction classes in order to learn how to use your element power. It's a big reason I was homeschooled."

  "Where did you get it?" I wanted one. I wanted one badly.

  "There are special conventions in protected warehouses where witches search for a crystal that attunes to their individual magick. Mostly novices but sometimes a witch outgrows or loses their Pagatio and seeks a new one. Collectors find them all over the world.

  You can't imagine, Stella. There are enormous bowls and tables filled with diamonds, opals, quartz, citrine, jade and emeralds—so many that the air sparkles when they allow the novices to enter and their magick searches for a match." Amanda's eyes were starry, and I smiled wistfully. She leaned close and whispered, “I’ve buried a number of crystals around the edges of your property.”

  I pulled back and saw she was serious.

  “Why?”

  “Protections. You never know. But you have deeper magick here. It’s like a low vibration I’ve never felt elsewhere.”

  “You sound really excited about crystals—about your…Pagatio?”

  Amanda took my hand with earnest eyes. “Stella, do you remember how you felt when you first heard Radioheads’s Kid A album?”

  I nodded.

  “It’s like that.”

  “Wow.”

  The strains of a violin rose from the stairway, and we jumped at the initial shrieking of strings being warming up. Silvan must have collected his violin from the car. We stilled, waiting until the haunting strains of Barber's Adagio for Strings filled the house before sharing a smile. It was one of my favorite songs, and Silvan often played it when he knew I was upset or sad.

  "So, what happened to you?" I asked quietly. She lowered her chin and picked lint from my comforter before meeting my gaze. Her hazel eyes held mine without flinching.

  "I'm sorry. We left because I knew you would not let things go about what you saw at the river. We were sworn to secrecy and didn't have permission from our clan’s Queen to reveal ourselves."

  "What are you still hiding?" I struggled to keep my expression neutral, to not betray how much this mattered. She looked down at her wand, fidgeting with it.

  "Please don't ask." She averted her eyes to the floor. I folded my hands in my lap and resisted the urge to throw the plate across the room. Didn't I have my own secrets now? As much as I craved to tell her about Alaric, he felt too private to share. The trust between Amanda and I too tender. So, I shared another secret.

  "It seems a lot happened to us both today. I think I'm engaged." I deadpanned.

  Amanda's eyes widened in horror. "It’s too soon for the Noble King to find you. I thought you knew of the enchantment, Stella? You can't marry or you'll fulfill the curse. I leave you alone for one day. Please don't tell me Scott wheedled his way back into your good graces."

  "No. Not Scott." One day I would have to tell her about breaking into her house.

  "Have you ever met the Noble King?" The name flowed from my lips.

  She gaped before snapping her teeth together, swallowing several times. "Once. He is...very handsome. I got to meet him at my coming out. That was our trip where we said we went to Alaska, but we really went to Paris."

  I frowned at her admission. "But you brought me a wool scarf and hat from Alaska.'

  Amanda flashed me a sheepish grin.

  "Internet shopping," she explained. What the…

  "How did you meet the Noble King?" she asked hurriedly.

  "At a bookstore. Did you really go to Paris?" I countered. She nodded. I shook my head. I really didn't know my dearest friends as well as I thought I did.

  "I met Murad and he wants to help me. He thinks his immortality might save me from the curse."

  She nodded, thoughtful. "Wow. You call him by his first name? I’d hoped you might have laid low after Thomas told you about the declaration to marry you but that would just not be you, would it? I’ve thought about it a lot, and it would give you a lot of protection to be Noble Queen. If anyone tried to hurt you, all the factions would rise up to prevent it.

  "Stella, I've known you a long time, and trust me when I say this. You are a passionate, impulsive person. You leap without looking and stay focused on what you want until it's yours. It's what I both love and find most frustrating about you.

  “But what if you fall in love with someone else after the curse is broken? Will there be consequences if you leave the King—what if he won't let you go? There are rumors that he mega-stalked his last fiancé. His power is rather scary and rumor is that he doesn’t forgive easily." She gingerly cradled her side and I handed her the ice pack.

  "I don't know the guy, but I can guarantee he'll never fall in love with me. I'm just trying to survive to middle age here." Amanda opened her mouth to speak and then closed her lips with a grimace.

  "Your turn. How did you get those injuries?" I pointed to her neck.

  She cupped her throat gently before dropping her hand.

  "Marcus," she whispered, shame swirling in her voice. It made me want to break him.

  "The hiker-sorcerer guy?"

  She nodded. "I was supposed to meet Mom and Dad at the ferry. I told them I had to return books to the library but instead I spoke with Thomas and then left you that note about Stonehenge. When I left the market, Marcus was waiting for me. He surprised me at the car and told me he had you. He threatened to kill you if I didn't come quietly and then he took me to a motel near Beaverton." Her voice had lowered to a whisper. My jaw and hands clenched.

  "I'm not a very good witch it turns out. I was too petrified to work a single defensive spell, and when we got to the room and I saw you weren't there, it was too late. I tried to fight but it was pathetic. He held me down and when I came to, I was tied to a chair," she gave a rough laugh. "Better than dead I guess."

  "Oh, Amanda." Fury held me rigid.

  "He lied to you, of course." My voice was tight. "I was at the market and found your note just after you left it beneath the door. What—what happened when you woke up?" Amanda noticed my clenched hands and her face relaxed into a slight smile I knew was meant to reassure me.

  "It was like something from a movie. Bad carpeting, old cigarette stench—a total cliché. Marcus hurt me, wanted to know how to find you. When I refused, he took my wand. That was the hardest part, actually. Once a crystal attunes to a witch it becomes part of you. Taking it from me was painful." Her hands twisted in her lap.

  "How did you get free? How did you get your wand back?" I ground my molars. Marcus was going down, no question.

  "Clara rescued me." Amanda said, as if she still couldn't believe it. "I got lucky that she and some of her clan leaders were in the area looking for someone else. They tracked Marcus because he held my Pagatio to keep me from screaming. Clara can feel us at the end of our magick. She knew it wasn't me. I was also bleeding and blood has power. It amplifies. I used my magick to send her an image of my location before he stopped me.”

  “Interesting,” I commented, meaning it.

  "She's the Water Witch Queen and the leader of our Clan. She lives here in Portland but leads all the witches in North America. It's a huge transgression of territory for one Queen to kidnap another Queen's coven members. His ink marked him as Earth coven,” she explained. I recalled his tattoo of twining red roses.

  "Where is Marcus now?"

  "Likely in a magickly enforced cell awaiting trial. Clara drove me back to my car before I saw what happened
to him," Amanda said.

  "She just dumped you at your car with broken ribs? No hospital?" How uncaring could this Clara be? I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

  "Witches are different, Stella. Clara couldn't heal my ribs just yet. She needs supplies. So, no need for a hospital. I just have to wait for her to come round tomorrow." She looked away, using her finger to arrange the crumbs on her plate in neat lines.

  Tess had said that Clara had been feeding me ugly juice for the last few years. Then realization dawned...how Clara had access to my food and drink; I think I was looking at her.

  The thought formed, circled and settled into my gut like a missing puzzle piece. All the green juice she and her mom gave me. The health drinks Marion was always experimenting with and asking me to try. At least two or three times a week. I shared meals with Amanda and her parents pretty regularly. The betrayal of it washed over me like a tsunami. Needing distance, I walked over to my work table. I picked up the Empress tarot card while listening to the roar of blood in my ears. How do you accuse your best friend, the one you trust the most, with such a deep betrayal?

  "Amanda—have you been giving me concoctions to make me look—different?" I slowly turned to see Amanda unfolding herself to stand. I was considerably less sympathetic to her obvious pain than I'd been a minute ago.

  "You know. Stella—I know how funny you are about trusting people. I know how this may seem, but please just hear me out." She held her palms out as if I were an animal preparing to attack. I arched a brow and remained calm. When I didn't erupt in flames, she put her plate on my dresser and eyed my overflowing wastebasket.

  "Mom and I were approached by Clara when you and I first started homeschool classes together. I wasn't even an official member of the coven, yet. I didn't know it then, but Mom has been tasked with keeping an eye on you for years. She reports anything unusual. It was for your own good—to help you hide." Frowning at my waste basket, Amanda worked the bag from the bin. The container fell to its side and rolled in my direction. I kicked it and Amanda sighed as she tied the bag.