by Ford, Lizzy
“I will,” Dawn said. She climbed out of the car and hurried to the dorms, chilled by the cold, Idaho night.
The Dark witchlings had enough dorms that no one needed a roommate, unlike the Light Campus. She found herself enjoying her own private space for once. The small dorm room was more of an apartment with a living area and kitchenette, a private bedroom, and a bathroom. Most importantly, there were tons of closets for all her designer clothing.
Dawn flipped on the lights and stopped in the middle of her living room. The heat wasn’t on. She went to the thermostat, pissed, and checked it. It read seventy-one degrees, where she preferred it. But it was almost colder here than outside.
You’re ignoring me.
This time, she was certain it wasn’t air magick. She had no idea what it could be. The voice came from inside her head and yet, she distinctly heard it, as if it were outside her head, too.
Light failed to penetrate one corner of her living room. Her gaze lingered. The shadows reminded her of the Darkness that trailed Decker wherever he went.
“Who are you?”
A friend.
Dawn started towards the door. She felt foolish talking to herself then scared when someone answered.
Do you want Beck or not?
Dawn stopped.
I can help you get him back. Or destroy him. It’s up to you.
“How?” she asked without turning.
The room grew colder. She shivered despite her coat.
Thus far, your planning and execution have been inconsistent. If you want him to feel your pain, to suffer as you do, you need my help. You must hit him where it counts.
“I’ve tried that,” she replied.
Every Dark Master has a Light counterbalance.
“That bitch Summer.”
Exactly. Every Light Master has one, too.
Dawn turned, interested. Her hopes soared once more, and she waited for it to speak again. Maybe, all she had to do was tell Beck she was his, and he’d stop being such an idiot about everything.
It’s not you.
Fury filled her. Dawn flung her purse across the room.
“Get out of here!” she snarled, glaring into the corner.
But …
She waited, fuming.
But you can remove his from his life and increase your chances of convincing him to return to you. You don’t have a shot otherwise.
“Why isn’t it me? I deserve to be with him!” she snapped.
Are you willing to do what it takes to be with him?
“I’ve been trying for months now,” she replied. “Like you have any better ideas? I took out his last girlfriend and tried to get rid of Summer, so Decker would destroy him. Nothing works! I’m stuck in court all the time about the damn kid and now the cops are involved because Alexa just had to kill Tanya!”
Your mistake is that you lack conviction.
“Conviction!” Dawn wanted to scream. How much more conviction did she need? She’d gone Dark in the process and almost got herself killed! Hell, she’d slept with Decker when he was going crazy without Summer to figure out how to manipulate him, too, and recently, seduced multiple Light and Dark witchlings to keep an eye on Beck.
Since Sonya walked away from her, Dawn had lost her spy and friend among the Light witchlings. She paused, saddened by the thought of losing her best friend. She and Sonya had arrived at the boarding school together, four years ago.
She betrayed you to Beck.
“I know,” Dawn said, hardening. “She’s a bitch. Just like everyone else.”
Beck will betray you one final time, too. He will order Decker to kill you after the baby is born.
Dawn didn’t want to think about it. She doubted Beck had the balls to do something like that, but Decker … he hated her, which was all Summer’s fault. Decker would do it whether or not Beck wanted him to.
Dawn rubbed her belly instinctively. She was disposable to the Turner twins, once she gave birth. She’d never meant anything to Beck. He could love her baby, but not her. Worst of all, he’d take her baby and toss her aside. Like she was nothing.
So I ask again: are you willing to do what it takes?
“Who are you?” she repeated.
You may know me as Bartholomew.
Dawn gasped. “The Terrible!”
Not so terrible, if you knew the truth. I, too, lost someone I loved. It’s what drove me mad. I think you understand this feeling.
She considered. Nothing good was said in their history classes about how Bartholomew-the-Terrible had indiscriminately slaughtered witchlings and humans alike. The third Master of Dark in the Turner’s bloodline, Bartholomew nearly unleashed the Darkness upon the world.
“I do. But I don’t think we have the same view on things,” she said carefully.
I know things you don’t, like how to hide from the Dark Master. How to spot the woman who is meant for Beck, so you can get rid of her. How to use Dark magick to seduce, influence, and control those around you. How to destroy Beck, if that’s what you choose to do. I can teach you, and you can get your revenge and keep your daughter.
Dawn was quiet for a moment, intrigued by the idea that there was a way to hide from Decker. If true, she wouldn’t have to worry about the Laws or what happened to her after the baby was born.
“What do you want in return?” she asked.
Two things. There is something at the Light Campus I need, something I thought was destroyed long ago. I sensed it arrive recently, but cannot take it myself.
“What is it?”
If you agree, I will tell you. It’s small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.
“Sounds simple. What’s the second condition?”
You must invite me into your body. I can only do these things, and claim what I seek, if we are one.
“Hmmm,” she said. “When it’s over, you’ll leave?”
If you wish it.
“My baby won’t be hurt?”
Your baby will be fine.
Dawn hesitated. He was offering her everything she ever wanted. He was right. Her own efforts up until now had failed to do anything except get her into more trouble. She needed the help, especially if she planned to live to see her daughter grow up.
What is your decision?
She looked into the corner again, queasy despite her desire for revenge.
“I want to know something first, so I know you’re not manipulating me,” she said firmly. “How will I know who is Beck’s counterbalance?”
There was a pause. The shadows shifted. Finally, it spoke.
Beck is an earth element. The Master of Dark must be a fire element. To increase the chances that his successor is born with fire magick, both Masters must be able to produce heirs with fire magick. When the Master of Light does not inherit the fire element, he will likely be drawn to one as his counterbalance.
“That girl?” Dawn asked, stunned. “She’s not even pretty!”
It is potential only. It is rare that pure fire witchlings stay Light. If she goes Dark, the potential is lost.
Dawn was quiet, thinking. It sounded easy. The girl after her Beck was already likely to fail. Dawn just had to push her over the edge, force her to go Dark, and Morgan was out of the picture. The idea of Beck falling for the fire witchling, however, filled her with fury and frustration.
No, it wasn’t enough to make her go Dark, like they had done to Summer. If the fire witchling was alive, Beck would always be tempted by her.
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “I agree to your conditions. What do I need to get from the school?”
First things first. Invite me in.
Air magick swirled around her, whispering warnings. Dawn’s gaze remained on the shadows in the corner. She drew a deep breath.
“I invite you in, Bartholomew-the-Terrible.”
Chapter Nine
“You gotta relax, Son.”
His father’s voice was soft and deep.
Beck sighed. It w
as a chilly morning, and they were seated in the forest, at the edge of the Light source. The earth had cleared and warmed a spot for both of them. Normally, Beck did this alone. Today, he hoped his father’s calming influence would help him concentrate. The toll of the past few weeks was beginning to drag him down, along with his insomnia. He spent last night pacing, trying to figure out what to do, now that he kissed Morgan, and Dawn was suspicious.
“You need to talk?”
Opening his eyes, Beck saw the crinkles around his father’s dark eyes. Athletic and warmly dressed, Michael Turner was the backbone of their family. He always knew what to do. A strong Earth element, he balanced out the former Mistress of Dark, who was best described as teetering on the edge of Darkness on a daily basis. Beck understood what that was like, after dealing with Decker for all the months when Summer was gone.
“I just need to focus, Dad,” Beck mumbled. “I’ve been working on meditating, but sometimes, it’s hard to just shut my brain up.”
“You got a lot going on up there. Go easy on yourself.”
“Kinda hard when the whole world is relying on me.”
Michael smiled.
“I know you know that feeling,” Beck added. “Sometimes, I just wish the earth would answer a direct question. Like, tell me what I need to look for.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?”
Beck eyed his father. “Did Decker text you?”
Michael nodded.
“Look, I called it off last night. I know I shouldn’t have anything to do with her, but just thinking about her is driving me crazy,” Beck replied.
“You’re considering seeing someone?”
Beck stared at him. “What did Decker say?”
“That Dawn confronted you at the wharf.”
Dammit, Beck! Of course, he should know his brother wasn’t going to say anything about Morgan to their father. He might to their mother, but this was one area his father wasn’t going to take well.
“I don’t want to bankroll another custody battle.” While calm, Michael was frowning. “Or deal with the police about another murder.”
“Oh god, Dad!” Beck flinched. “You sound like Mom.”
“Tell me there’s not another girl.”
“Well, there’s not.”
They gazed at each other, Michael’s eyebrows raised.
“You’re eighteen. You can legally do what you want,” his father said, disbelieving. “But it sounds like a good time for your weyekin rite of passage. Take your mind off things and help you relax.”
A full-blooded Native American, their father waited to arrange their spiritual coming-of-age rites, as was traditional in his tribe, until after Beck and Decker took their places as the Masters.
“Yeah, actually, that might be nice,” Beck agreed. “I haven’t had a break in awhile. I’m feeling it. I take it the legal team will be off for the holidays soon?”
“Starting tomorrow.”
“Thank god. No lawyers, no court, no police interviews.”
“The only catch about the tradition is that once the rite starts, you can’t use magick for three days or until you complete it,” his father added. “So, I’d say to pick a time where things are quiet.”
“Maybe the Dark will take a break for the holidays, too,” Beck joked. “I think this week will work. My issues are mainly … humans. The Darkness isn’t bothering me.”
“I’ll talk to your brother about it. My niece’s wedding is this week, so the family is in town. I’ll have lunch with my brother to see if he has time to arrange a rite and ceremony for you.”
“You want me alone in the forest with Decker for three days?” Beck asked, laughing. “The last time he spent time away from Summer, we almost destroyed the world.”
“It’ll be good for you to reconnect. Besides, he won’t have magick to try to kill you with.” Michael winked. “Now, let’s find us some witchlings.”
Beck was surprised to feel a little more relaxed. The idea of a real break – just walking away from everything for a few days – was rejuvenating. Even if he spent it in the cold forest with a brother half-possessed by Darkness.
With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and placed his palms on the ground. This time, he focused on the warmth pooling within him instead of the mess in his head.
Show me my lost sheep, he ordered the earth.
Upon becoming the Master of Light, he began having dreams about witchlings that were lost, abandoned, or alone. They plagued him for weeks. When one of the witchlings from his dreams showed up at school, he realized the earth was trying to show him where to find young Light witchlings who needed to be brought to the school. Witchling magick was hereditary, but sometimes, it skipped so many generations, that the knowledge of the greater witchling society was lost.
The earth was about as consistent and focused as Beck today. It showed him random faces, but not always locations or names. It also didn’t specify if the visions were memories – or current. Beck had spent days hunting down one witchling, only to discover she had been dead for two centuries.
So, he decided to be more proactive. Instead of relying on dreams, he sat down several times a week and interrogated the elusive earth magick about where he needed to look to rescue witchlings and bring them to the boarding school his parents funded and managed in the Rocky Mountains.
An image formed in his mind of a brunette around the age of eleven. Beck focused on her, pushing the magick to tell him where she was.
Scottsdale, Arizona.
No address, but he saw the images around her: a ranch style, stucco house near the mountains. It was more than the earth normally showed him, and he could Google the location. He was able to sense any Light witchling within about ten miles. If he found an approximate location, he’d walk until he found her.
Excitement fluttered through him. Every Light witchling he found helped bolster the Light against the Darks.
“Got one,” he said, thrilled. He opened his eyes and scribbled notes in a small notebook.
“Who is she?” his father asked.
“Fire element,” he answered then cursed. “I mean, you know I can’t tell what the witchlings are until I meet them.”
“That’s the worst one,” Michael said. “You’ve fallen for a new girl, a fire element of all things.”
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Beck joked. “She pretty much hates me.”
“So did your mom, when we first met.”
“Don’t you start on me, too! I refuse to believe there’s a counterbalance for Light. It makes no sense.”
Michael snorted. “Counterbalance. Wow.”
“I’m staying away. I’ve learned my lesson,” Beck said firmly. “Anyway, the new witchling I found is in Arizona. I’ll head down after the holidays.”
“Alright. I’m headed to the office for a conference call with the legal team. I think you know Dawn is suing you for full custody?”
“Yeah, she told me last night. I’ll go with you.”
“I got this one, Beck. You’re stressed enough.”
Beck hesitated. “No, Dad, that’s not cool. This is all my fault.”
“You’ve gotta save the Light. I can handle the lawyers today.” Michael rose. By his tone, he wasn’t going to be swayed.
“Sounds good, Dad,” Beck relented.
Michael squeezed his shoulder then stood and walked towards the boarding school, where his car was parked. Beck stayed where he was, comfortable with the earth’s magick running through him. He looked down at his notebook.
Several pages were dog-eared, because he was still trying to figure out how to find those witchlings from previous discussions with the earth. Most of those pages were towards the front of the notebook, which brought him a smile. He was getting better at interpreting its unique method of communication. The past five weeks, he had no dog-ears on any of the pages.
His parents were right. Sometimes, it took time for things to work out the way they should.
Set
ting the book aside, he replaced his palms on the ground. Usually, he had a question or a point to his talks with the earth. No single thought came to mind.
“Show me whatever you want,” he told the earth.
He expected the earth to float some pretty memories by him, as it did randomly at times. Perhaps of the valley or animals or similar.
Today, though, it showed him fire. At its midst was a smooth, small black rock that radiated with Darkness. Unlike every other vision, there was no location to this one, no serene forest setting or aerial view of the school. The fire was cold, its flames blue, while the rock felt somehow colder.
The image faded.
Beck leaned back, startled by both the unexpected vision and the intensity with which the earth showed it to him. It was acting as if it were scared, the magick agitated, the warmth coming and retreating quickly, as if the element was pacing in his blood.
“You just can’t speak English, can you?” Beck asked, frustrated.
Danger. This he heard, a whisper in the wind.
Beck recalled the last image it showed him, of the Dark eating away at the core of the Light. He couldn’t piece the two visions together, and the earth seemed to be happy just to deliver the message. It was calming now, as if it trusted him to know what to do.
He didn’t. He wrote down this vision and the last, stared at it, then closed the notebook.
“We’re getting better at this,” he told the earth in approval. “I won’t get discouraged, and you keep showing me puzzle pieces.”
The magick replied with images of forest animals.
Beck almost laughed. They were definitely speaking two different languages. He wasn’t certain yet how to bridge the gap.
He rose and checked his watch. He was half an hour late for his first class. Every morning, the girls took dancing lessons and the boys played sports. It was thought that teaching the witchlings to understand and communicate with their physical bodies helped them manage the wild magick that flowed within them.
It was too cold for outdoor sports, so the boys were confined to the small gym.
Beck left the forest and went to the dorm room he used to share with Decker. His gaze always lingered on the bare bed. Seeing it reminded him how much had changed during the past few months. Decker was his best friend and had been throughout childhood. This had been their main home since they turned thirteen. They might have argued and fought, but they always came back to this room and each other.
