Blood Prophecy (Witch Fairy)

by Bonnie Lamer

  “Say the spell,” he says and his voice is filled with the glee of someone who believes he has won. “Kill them all.”

  Seven voices begin to chant. “From ancient times of rhymes and runes, these witches call upon the power of the moon to scourge the earth of magic black, and within its womb to take mercifully back, this one born in heresy and shame, and those who’ve shielded her also to blame, swallow their guilt and show us their pain. All this we ask in the goddess’s name.”

  I have to shield Zac from the onslaught of magic that has erupted around us. I curl my body around his and I prepare to keep those I love alive as I throw up a cinderblock wall of magic separating us from them. The world goes black around Zac and me as I hug him tighter, refusing to let him go for any reason.

  Chapter 15

  “She’s not one of us.”

  “But you heard her call.”

  “I heard Lailah’s call.”

  “Lailah is fallen. She is not able to call to us.”

  “Those are Lailah’s wings.”

  “Impossible.”

  “I believe she’s human.”

  “No, not human. She smells of amber. And moss.”

  “Impossible.”

  “You keep saying that, but there she is.”

  “What do we do with her?”

  “We may not interfere.”

  “But we must help if called.”

  “We must help our own.”

  “Isn’t she one of us? Her wings are born of us and we can hear her call.”

  “Do those things truly make her one of our own?”

  “Of course they do.”

  “We’re not meant to help these creatures.”

  “She called to us.”

  “We may not interfere in their battle.”

  “She has our wings and we hear her call. How can you say that does not make her one of us?”

  “This is all impossible.”

  “You really must stop saying that.”

  “We have to help her.”

  “But what does she need from us?”

  “I suppose we do need to find that out.”

  “Child, why did you call us?”

  Are they talking to me now? And if so, who are they? It sounds like three different people are having this conversation. I’ve met the Witan now and they don’t sound like any of them. And what do they mean I called to them? I wrap my arms more firmly around Zac’s body. Slowly, I open my eyes. To darkness.

  Where are we? And what is wrapped around us. I shift, and whatever is covering us moves with me. It’s not my magic that has formed a shield around us. It’s something else. I shift my shoulders back to try to remove it and a pinch in my back makes me stop. It didn’t hurt exactly, it just feels heavy. I try again and it’s easier this time, but it’s still there, that heaviness pressing against me.

  “See, she doesn’t even know how to move them. She is not one of us.”

  “Give her a moment to get her bearings.”

  Closing my eyes for a second to build my strength and courage, I pick Zac up and stand up. As I do, light comes rushing in as whatever is shielding us falls behind me. Is that a feather in Zac’s hair? It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the light and when they do, I can very clearly see that it is a feather. Looking over my shoulder, my nose comes millimeters from bumping into a giant wing. I stumble forward to get away from whoever’s wing it is but it follows me. When I turn around to face it, it’s behind me.

  “What is she doing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  In my quest for the wing holder, I forgot about the voices for a second. Raising my eyes, there are three people standing about ten feet away from me and Zac. There’s a man and two women. And I’m pretty sure they’re Angels. “Oh no, am I dead?”

  “Of course not,” the one male Angel says.

  Looking around me, everyone else is still here. Kallen has risen to his feet, Grandma is squared off against Maeva, and Mom is in Fatin’s face. But none of them are moving. “Are they dead?” I ask.

  “See, she doesn’t know anything. She is not one of us.” This is said by one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She has long, straight black hair. Her skin is a creamy caramel color and her eyes are slanted ever so slightly like a cat’s. She is dressed in something similar to an Indian sari and it is dyed rich colors of red, blue, and purple. She looks like a Persian princess. A very annoyed Persian princess.

  Taking in the other two, they are just as beautiful. The man has flawless skin the color of a rich mocha with dark hair that’s cut short. He has an aquiline nose and a chiseled chin and cheek bones. His eyes are a deep brown and his full lips are smiling. He has on dark pants that hug his leg muscles but no shirt. The other woman has on a long flowing dress in an ancient Greek style and it’s pure white. She has auburn hair and the most perfect complexion I have ever seen. Her skin looks like ivory and her pink lips make a natural bow that looks half a step away from smiling even when she’s not.

  “But she can look upon us,” the smiling man says. “That is proof enough she is one of us.”

  “No, child, they are not dead,” the woman with the auburn hair finally answers my question.

  “Then why aren’t they moving?”

  A sigh escapes the Persian princess. “Because we have taken you out of their time. You do not exist in their time when you are here, and here, time moves differently. If we send you back, they will not even know you’ve been gone.” If they send me back?

  Wow, and I thought physics was hard to understand. All these time differences between realms are getting confusing. “Why did you take me out of my time?”

  The woman with auburn hair walks towards me. “Let me take him for you, it has been a long time since I have held a child. Then we will explain.”

  I try not to frown as I decide whether or not I want to hand Zac over to this woman. Yes, she looks like an Angel, but this could also be an elaborate trick the Witan cooked up. Sensing my hesitation, she laughs and it’s like a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. “I will not harm him. I simply love children.”

  The feeling that I am safe here washes over me and I hand her Zac. She smiles and begins to softly sing him a lullaby as she walks a few steps away rocking him gently. He still has not woken up yet. I really hope he’s okay.

  “Are you Angels?” I ask. Okay, so the wings are a dead giveaway but I still want to be sure.

  The man nods his head. “We are. The question now is – what are you?”

  That’s an easy question. “I’m half Witch and half Fairy.”

  “Impossible,” the woman with long black hair says. “Witches and Fairies cannot mate. It would be similar to a lion and tiger mating. It simply is not done in nature.”

  Does she have to talk about it as mating? “My father is a Fairy and my mother is a Witch. There’s even a prophecy about it.”

  The Angel holding Zac looks up. “Prophecy?” She turns excitedly to the other Angels. “Has the prophecy come about then, Urim?”

  The male Angel inclines his head. “Indeed, it has.”

  “Finally, I’ve been waiting so long for you! Urim was very naughty not telling us the prophecy is coming to fruition.”

  I’m not sure we’re talking about the same prophecy. In the one I know, the Angels are crying. “Are you talking about the prophecy where I destroy the world?”

  “Silly girl, you don’t…”

  “Valoel, you mustn’t,” the other female Angel says. “You could change the course of things.”

  Valoel’s bottom lip pushes out ever so slightly. I didn’t know Angels pouted. “But she has it all wrong, Tabbris.”

  “She has been given enough information to make her choices – and they need to be her choices,” Tabbris says. With her black hair and green eyes, she could be Kallen’s sister. Even her personality seems a bit like his.

  “Oh, pah,” Valoel says as she waves a hand as if to say it doesn’t matter. “She aske
d for help so that means that we need to help her. Look around you, Tabbris. She is in the middle of a magical war, the likes of which hasn’t been seen in millennia. It is time for us to step in.”

  “Peace cannot exist everywhere, Valoel. She must choose her own way.” Tabbris’ voice has a finality to it that causes Valoel’s lip to extend a tiny bit farther out.

  Urim finally joins the conversation again. “It is her fate to find us. She is to draw strength and power from us.”

  Tabbris’ face sets like stone. “I don’t like this, Urim.”

  He inclines his heads in empathy. “I understand.”

  “Um, I hate to interrupt, but could one of you tell me what’s going on? And why do I have wings on my back?”

  “I would like to know the answer to that myself,” Tabbris says. Her facial expression hasn’t change but it is amazing how she can look beautiful and annoyed at the same time. I thought Angels were supposed to be nice and happy?

  “I believe the explanations fall to you, Urim,” Voloel says and she rubs her nose against Zac’s. He’d be dying of embarrassment if he was awake right now. Pushing that thought aside, I turn my attention back to Urim. Kallen is gorgeous but there aren’t words to describe how handsome Urim is.

  “So it does, Vol.” Looking at me, he says, “I suppose I should start from the beginning.” Oh, I bet this is going to be a really long story.

  “Don’t worry, it’s a good story,” Voloel says as if she had read my mind, and which earns her a snarky look from Tabbris. “But perhaps the beginning should include introductions. My name is Voloel, and I am the Angel of Peace. Tabbris is the Angel of Self-determination – she helps maintain free will. Urim is the Angel of Illumination and it falls to him to determine our fates. We must all work together, you see – a system of checks and balances, you could say, to keep the realms of sentient beings habitable. There is a fourth, Lailah, the Angel of Love and Conception, but she is fallen right now.”

  Okay, there are a couple of things I don’t understand in those introductions. “What do you mean by habitable?”

  “Sentient beings tend to be a bit volatile,” she says diplomatically.

  I think I know what she means. “We fight and go to war a lot.”

  Her long auburn hair is pushed back and to the side now, so it’s no longer draping over Zac’s still sleeping head. Even her ears are pretty. “That is part of it, yes. But there’s more. Sentient beings have a wide range of emotions and even the good ones can have devastating effects on the realms. As angels, we can sometimes whisper encouragement, help steer people in the right direction, but we may not impose our will. Tabbris is quite effective at keeping us in line. I believe her job is the most difficult.” She gives Tabbris an affectionate look and the hint of a smile forms on the other angel’s lips.

  “But, there have been times that we’ve had to exert some control, or ask the aid of other beings, to save humanity from destruction. Only when the need is dire may we interfere,” Tabbris says. I think Voloel has softened her up a bit now.

  This is interesting but it’s not really helpful for my current situation. “Okay, I get what you guys do, but why do I have wings? I’m not an angel. And what did you mean when you said Lailah was ‘fallen?’”

  Urim jumps back into the discussion with a dazzling grin. “Patience, young one. We are old beings and we have much time on our hands to enjoy telling our stories.” Great, even the angels think I’m impatient. But, they may have all the time in the world, or universe, and I don’t. I feel like I’m aging right now.

  “Angels, of course, have been around since the beginning of time,” Urim continues. “Over the years, new beings were brought into existence and it is our job to watch over them as Voloel has explained.”

  “Just watch them.” Tabbris gives him a pointed look but he ignores her.

  “As I was saying, it is our job to watch over them and we have done this in many ways over the millennia. But it did not take us long to figure out that humans weren’t heading in the direction they needed to be. They sought power and wealth, and the harmony among many of them quickly disintegrated. But there were pockets, here and there, of people who wanted to be led in a better direction. It was because of them that we would fall.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask trying really hard to sound patient.

  “We would become fallen Angels. We would assume a human form, in a toned down version of ourselves, of course.”

  “Why a toned down version?”

  “Because to look at us in our natural state, as you are now, will cause blindness in humans, Witches and Fairies.”

  I still don’t get it. “But, why aren’t you making me blind?”

  “I will get to that soon enough, impatient one. When Angels fall, we become similar to Witches. We retain some of our abilities, some of our magic. In the past, we would become priests and priestesses, teaching humankind how to survive in peace. We used our magic to protect them until they reached a point where they could defend themselves from magical beings.”

  “So, you were born knowing you were an Angel?”

  Urim shakes his head. “No, when we fall, we are what you consider adults. There are legends in your realm of the priests and priestesses who came fully grown from the mist.”

  I crinkle my brow. “Like the druids in King Arthur’s time?”

  He smiles. “Yes, we have often been referred to as druids, among other names.”

  “Are there a lot of Angels who have fallen?”

  “No. Sadly, there was a point where humans simply stopped listening to us. We may still fall, but most of us choose not to anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “When we are fallen, we age as humans do and live out a human life. So, even though we start as adults, we still may live sixty or seventy years in our human form. That time is a blink of the eye for us when we are here in our realm, but the time passes slowly for us on earth. And that is a long time to live with no one listening to you.”

  “Then why did the Angel that Voloel was talking about fall?”

  Voloel answers and for the first time since I arrived here, she looks sad. “Our Angel of Love wanted to experience human love for herself. Alas, it has not turned out well for her.”

  “Then can’t she just come back?” It seems like that would be a perk of being an Angel.

  “No,” Tabbris says and she looks sad, as well. “Once our choice is made, we must live out that human life. We must make choices as a human would. And if we choose poorly, we do not return to our Angel form. Lailah is dangerously close to that.”

  “You keep saying human, but you said you have the powers of a Witch when you’re fallen.”

  Voloel waves her hand in the air as if to say it doesn’t matter. “Oh, that’s just semantics. Witches, Fairies, humans. You are all humanoid; you all start from the same pattern. Some of you are simply more magical than others.”

  That makes sense, I guess. “Did she know who she wanted to fall in love with?” I can’t help myself, I’m curious.

  Tabbris is back to looking angry again. “She did. I warned her that his mind was weak, easily controlled by others, but she fell anyway. If she had listened to me, she would not be in the mess she is in.”

  I don’t know if I want to pursue that topic anymore. Not if Tabbris is that upset about it. I’d hate to be her scapegoat. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand why I can be in your presence without being blinded.”

  Voloel raises her eyes to mine. “Because you have the blood of an Angel.”

  Um, I don’t think so. “I really think you have me confused with someone else. Like I said, my biological father is a Fairy and my mom is a Witch.”

  Urim says gently, as if I’m a child, “As I am the Angel of Fates, it is important I keep track of who is who. Your Angel blood did not originate with your parents.”

  Okay, he lost me again. “Then who?”

  “Your grandmother is a fallen Angel. She is Lailah; but t
hat is not the name she goes by in your realm.”

  I’m pretty sure that my mouth has dropped so far open that they have a clear view of my tonsils. Maybe even my esophagus. “Grandma. Grandma is an Angel.”

  Urim inclines his head in confirmation. “A fallen Angel, yes.”

  So, that means it was Grandpa that she fell for? Literally. Wow, she did choose badly. “My grandma is the Angel of Love.”