by Wendy Knight
Destiny had always loved her sister’s voice, but right now, the sound of it felt like razor blades across her already painful skin. A tear escaped and burned its way across her temple to be lost in her hair.
She had no idea how long she’d been lying here.
“There’s a spell — a spell that can take her pain. I have to find it.” Alina moved. Destiny knew she did because she could feel the waves of pain from it, but she couldn’t open her eyes to see. If she did, she might die.
And she didn’t even think she was being overly dramatic.
“There’s a spell that takes away her pain and you’re just now thinking of it?” Fate cried, too loudly.
Destiny whimpered and instantly regretted it.
“I’m so sorry,” Fate said quietly. She’d stopped coming into Destiny’s head because it hurt so badly, but it was better than her yelling.
She could hear them in the library, rustling through all the papers, cursing the fact that they had so many spell books and had never categorized them for easier spell retrieval. Every page turned seemed to blast Destiny with a wave of pain, every muttered curse was an attack, even from clear across the house.
And then it seemed to stop, even though she could still hear them, their sounds didn’t hurt so much. Maybe she was healing finally? She dared to peek open an eye to see.
It was probably the worst mistake she’d ever made.
She carefully slid her eye closed again, apologizing profusely to herself as pain washed over her again and again. It hadn’t been worth it. She wasn’t healed.
But what she’d seen couldn’t be right, could it?
Men didn’t have magical powers.
And yet…
She’d seen Luca, arms outstretched, head bowed, creating a ward between her and the rest of the house. Holding the noises and movements at bay.
Clearly, the pain was causing hallucinations now.
Really? Just a few hours — or days — ago you thought there were still potion witches at the coven’s headquarters.
Maybe she didn’t know anything anymore.
Assuming he really was protecting her with a ward, he held it for hours, for as long as it took Alina and Fate to find the spell. She could feel it weakening and knew his magic was waning, knew he must be exhausted, but still he held it.
“I found it,” Alina said, her voice barely making it through the ward. “Fate is making the potion now.” There was a long pause, and then she said, “What are you doing, Luca?”
“Protecting her.” His voice was ragged, like he’d just run a thousand mile race with no water.
“But—but how? You—you’re not a witch.”
“Science is magic, too, Alina. Please, I have to concentrate.”
Protecting her.
Destiny tried not to cry, because the tears burned, but one or two slipped through.
Her father, protecting her while her mother worked to save her. Is this what Fate had always craved? Was this what she’d been waiting for?
“I’ve got it. Are you ready, Mom?” Fate’s voice shook like she was on the verge of tears, but Fate never cried, so that couldn’t be right. “I wish she could help me. Her potions are so much better than mine.”
What?
Destiny wanted to laugh. That wasn’t true. Their potions together were strong. Apart, they were the same. Didn’t Fate know that? How could she even think that wasn’t the case?
The ward dropped as Fate and Alina started whispering the spell. The pain amplified, every word a lash against her body. Their chanting seemed to make it worse, like the pain was angry they were trying to eradicate it, and was punishing Destiny. She was certain that wasn’t the case, but it sure felt like it.
And then they stopped, and she felt Fate sprinkle the potion across Destiny’s body. The pain lifted, and Destiny gasped as her eyes flew open. She could see it, hanging above her in limbo, black and angry like a swarm of a million tiny bees.
And then it started to fall back toward her. She cried out—she wasn’t even sure what she said, just that she cried—as it shifted closer and closer, and then she cried again as it touched her, her entire body writhing against it. “Mama!”
“Fate, quickly. Bring me the potion.” Alina held out her hand, still holding her place. Obediently, Fate rushed to her side and handed her the potion. Alina raised the wand above her head and swirled it down, like a mini cyclone, around her. Then she poured the remaining potion on herself.
The pain leaped from Destiny and flew in a dark cloud through the room, hitting Alina so hard she was knocked backward, off her feet, and collapsed against the table.
Luca was at her side instantly. Fate screamed as Destiny climbed to her feet, still weak and not entirely stable. She stumbled, trying to get to her mother’s side, and Fate swooped back, grabbing her arm and throwing it across her shoulders, supporting Destiny’s weight, and she half-carried her across the room to Alina’s side.
“What happened? What did I do wrong? I knew I shouldn’t have mixed that potion by myself!”
Luca was listening to Alina’s vitals as she writhed and cried on the floor, in too much pain to respond. Destiny knew exactly how she felt. “Shhh. The noise hurts.”
“Fate, bring me the spell book.” Luca whispered harshly. Fate sprang to her feet and raced from the room.
“Can you ward her? Like you did me?” Destiny asked. Her throat was dry, her words were barely a dry breath, but somehow Luca heard her and understood.
He again bowed his head and spread his arms. His lips moved, but Destiny couldn’t hear him. A shimmering ward sparkled to life around Alina, but Destiny could see how weak it was. He’d used all his magic trying to protect her, and had none left for Alina.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try, though.
Fate came barreling back with the spell book. “Here. Here’s the spell.” She dropped it at his feet. Destiny and Alina both winced. Carefully, Destiny leaned over Luca’s shoulder to read.
“This isn’t to take away someone’s pain.” Luca said as horror dawned in Destiny’s stomach and roiled through her. “It’s to give it to someone else.”
Destiny shoved her fist against her mouth and stumbled back, knocking into the furniture before she collapsed. “No.”
Fate caught her and held her close. “She didn’t tell me,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Her sister, big and tough and fearless, the one who never cried, was crying.
Fate was the strong one. Destiny was the weak one. And if Fate was breaking, what did that mean for Destiny?
Luca shook his head. “No. I’m sure she didn’t.”
Destiny scrabbled for the book and pulled it into her lap. “There has to be a way to undo it.”
She flipped through page after page, but there was nothing. She got up, stumbled to the library, and started searching book after book after book, coming up dusty and empty-handed every time. She wanted to scream and throw the books and burn them all to hell. But she barely had the energy to turn the pages, and the noise would hurt her mother, anyway.
“She’s not as strong as you,” Fate said quietly. “This could kill her. And it’s all my fault.”
“No, Fate. No, it’s not your fault. If anything, it’s my fault.”
Fate rolled her eyes, scrubbing at tears. “How is it your fault? You had no choice in the matter.”
“It’s neither of your faults. It is a mother’s prerogative to take her children’s pain. It was her choice, and hers alone, and it will not kill her. The strength of a mother’s love knows no bounds,” Luca said quietly as he came through the library doors. He was shaking and weak, having protected their mother until his magic had been completely spent.
“Wait. Wait, look at this. Luca, will this work? Will it help her?” Fate picked up the book and shoved it at Luca’s chest, stabbing the ancient pages with her finger. “It will put her to sleep. To hide her from the pain.”
“Like a medically-induc
ed coma?” Destiny hurried to their side, only falling sideways once.
“Yes. Yes, I think so.” Luca scanned the page twice more, and then nodded. “Quickly, let’s mix this potion.”
Fate looked to Destiny. “He’s got nothing left and I’m not as strong—”
“Stop it, Fate. We are the same. Our magic is the same. You are as strong as I could ever hope to be, and right now, much, much stronger than I am. You can mix the potion.”
Fate’s lip trembled, but she nodded, spinning away toward the kitchen.
Luca followed her with the book. “I’ll gather ingredients while you mix, Fate. Destiny, go eat some chocolate. Get something to drink. You need to restore your energy.” When she didn’t move, he glanced back at her. “You do have chocolate, yes?”
“House full of girls, Luca. Of course we have chocolate,” Fate said as she started the fire under the cauldron. Out of habit, Destiny heard her whisper with a small smile, “Cauldron bubble.”
Destiny sank to floor while Fate stirred the cauldron with one hand and reached for the chocolate with her other hand. She passed it down to Destiny with the command to eat and grabbed her water bottle. “Drink.”
“Valerian root and Lemon balm. What else?” Luca asked, dropping them on the counter. Destiny tipped her head back, leaning it against the cupboard for support so she could watch them work.
“Kava,” Fate answered promptly. “Destiny, I need you to help me stir. And chant.”
Destiny reached over and patted her on the foot. “No. You don’t.”
“Get up here or so help me, woman,” Fate growled.
Apparently, she was done with the sympathy. Destiny struggled to her feet. Luca, passing behind them, lifted her up and set her on the counter next to Fate. Fate slapped a wooden spoon into her hand. She leaned her head against Fate’s shoulder and started stirring. “Hide from pain in sleep. Where safe you’ll be and life you’ll keep…” Fate looked at Destiny, eyes wide. “I don’t know what comes next.”
Destiny tried to spur her pain-shocked brain into motion. Keep, sleep, weep… “We’ll wait for you and we will not weep.”
Fate raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“Yes. Now repeat it.”
They repeated the spell over and over while Luca tossed in ingredients. It was one of the most complicated spells Destiny had ever attempted, and very ancient. But if she put her whole soul into those words, into those ingredients, it would work. It would put Alina to sleep.
It had to.
“I think it’s ready,” Fate said, eyes wide. Her hands shook, just a bit. “Destiny? Is it ready?”
Destiny scowled at her.
“Okay. Luca, can you help me?”
Luca picked up the cauldron and poured it into the rose petal laced cup Fate held in her shaking hands. They both dashed from the kitchen into the living room, leaving Destiny sitting on the counter. She contemplated the jump down, wondering if she would survive it. A week ago, it wouldn’t have been something she’d even have thought about. But now, now she felt small and broken and couldn’t figure out how to get down on her own.
“It’s working. Destiny, our potion is working,” Fate called. “She’s asleep.”
“Blood pressure is dropping. That’s a good sign. It means the pain is subsiding.”
Destiny breathed a sigh of relief, leaning over the spell book, absent-mindedly reading the scrawled Latin across the pages. Alina had been trying to teach her Latin for years and years. She was still pretty rusty, but she could understand most of it.
“One will not wake.” Oh dear. Oh dear sweet heavens, that couldn’t be good. She whipped the book around and stared at the page, trying to make sense of more words but her eyes were blurring with tears.
“She will not wake …Ugh, what does this word mean?”
Luca appeared out of nowhere, scanning the book. “It means she won’t wake without the spell on the next page.” He turned the book so that he could see it while Destiny sucked in a relieved breath.
“Oh no.”
“What oh no? I don’t like oh no.”
Luca looked up at her with her same blue eyes, filled with horror. “She will not wake without the root of Kokia Cookei.”
“So? We’ll get it from Amazon. They have everything.”
“Destiny…Fate…the Kokia Cookei has been extinct since the 1800s. A single specimen was found in the 70s, but it disappeared. We can’t wake your mother.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FATE HAD CRIED HERSELF TO SLEEP hours ago, curled up on Destiny’s bed, her head on Destiny’s shoulder. Destiny had dozed on and off, but her stomach was in knots, and she felt this overwhelming urge to get up and go.
Go where, she didn’t know, which is why she still lay there.
She could hear Luca. The house was old and the floorboards were thin. He spent his time alternately talking to Alina or begging her to come back to him. He told her of everywhere he’d traveled looking for her, of the desolation he’d felt when he’d thought she was dead, of the renewed determination when he realized she might still be alive. These eighteen years had been hard on him, maybe harder on him than on Alina.
But the most heartbreaking part was listening to him beg Alina to come back to him. He said he would take the pain, he would gladly take the pain and he only wished he would have thought of it first. No one needed him, he said. But Alina, she had two amazingly strong, beautiful daughters in a terrifying war and they needed their mother. He said he didn’t know how to protect Destiny from the warlocks he knew were coming after her.
He never sobbed, she’d give him that much. It was more than she could say for either her or Fate.
It was after midnight when she felt like she was slipping. Like her conscience was being pulled back and something else was trying to take control. She sat up, gasping, blinking frantically like that could possibly help.
But nothing did.
It only took a few minutes before she was completely lost. She stared at the clock, telling her body to lay back down, that she was still so weak, so hurting, but it wouldn’t. Her body wouldn’t do anything she told it to do. Instead, she got up, sliding carefully away so Fate wouldn’t wake, and pulled on some jeans and her cross country t-shirt. Completely unwilling, she snatched her Pittsburgh Steelers hoodie off the back of her door and her keys and purse off her desk, and then she slipped out the door and shut it quietly. Down the stairs, avoiding the ones that she knew creaked, and through the kitchen. Luca was with her mother, he didn’t even look up. She wasn’t sure he was awake, actually.
Out the back door, around the house. To the big black truck she loved so much. She hit the unlock button on her keys and climbed inside, shutting the door just enough to turn off the overhead light but not enough that Luca or Fate could hear her. Her hands didn’t even shake as she inserted the key and started the truck, even though she was screaming in her head. Her body just didn’t care. She started the truck and Destiny fell silent, waiting to see what she would do when Fate and Luca came rushing out to stop her.
But they didn’t get the chance. Destiny slammed it into drive and smashed down the gas pedal, peeling out in her front yard, tires squealing.
And then she was roaring down the dirt road.
The forest was much darker than usual, more foreboding. The trees seemed to close in on her, branches scraping across the truck, trying to keep her in. The potholes were so deep her whole tire could almost fit in one.
The forest is in mourning.
Baffled, she wondered where that happy little thought had come from.
And it just kept getting darker. The trees completely blocked out the moon and stars above, but from what little she could see, thick storm clouds had obliterated the night sky. To make matters worse, the wind picked up and howled through the forest, of course, blowing the opposite direction she was going, so it felt like she was fighting through every foot.
Destiny didn’t speed. Never, did she spe
ed. And she always wore her seatbelt. But now she was speeding despite the forest’s objections, and not wearing her seatbelt and taking those curves like she was in a low-lying race car and not a huge, jacked up truck. It was like her body was so focused on where she was going or whatever she had to do that it didn’t care about her own well-being at all.
“Please, just put on a seatbelt. Please?”
She didn’t listen.
****
QUIN HAD DRIVEN THROUGH the night. He didn’t drink caffeine or carbonation — it slowed him down in a game where speed and endurance were everything — but he’d guzzled both in the ten hours it had taken him to make the usual twelve hour drive. He’d driven much too fast, and he knew how stupid it was to drive exhausted, but he couldn’t seem to find the will to pull over. If Destiny could help his mother…
He had to get to her as quickly as possible.
The first bell rang at 7:45. As soon as his dashboard clock showed 7:46, he called the school.
“Hello, George Washington High School. Can I help you?” Thank the heavens, it was the secretary who liked him. The other one was frightening. “Ms. Kearsty? This is Quin Smitheren. I need to talk to Destiny Stafford. It’s really, really important.”
She wasn’t a normal school secretary. She was young and pretty, dark brown hair with bright blond streaks and huge brown eyes. Half the school had a secret crush on her. “Hey, Quin. I’ll send a message to her first period. How’s your mom?” she asked. He could hear voices in the background. It sounded like most of the school was late and clamoring for her attention, but she didn’t sound stressed at all.
“She’s not great. I’m not coming today, I’m already—”
“Excused for the day. I know.” He could hear the understanding smile in her voice. “Who were you looking for?”
“Destiny Stafford. Or her sister, Fate.” Stafford, Stafford. Where had he heard that name before? He drew a blank. Where had he heard that name recently? Clearly, how hot Destiny was had clouded his clear thinking.
The roar in the background was dying down, and he could hear her fingers clicking over the keys of her keyboard. He’d hung out in her office enough that he could picture the whole thing in his head — her tidy desk, the decorative rock bowl holding her weird-shaped pencils in the corner, the computer taking up the whole middle, and papers everywhere.
