The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set

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The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set Page 42

by Tricia Copeland


  I knew he’d said it to keep up our ruse, but it still hurt. Refocusing on our path, I tried to memorize how we’d gotten to the dining area. Carmen and Alex led us past the room we’d eaten in at lunch and through a set of wooden doors that stretched to the ceiling.

  A wave of electric hum hit me, and I grabbed my stomach thinking I might be sick. Let it flow through you. Jude reminded me, and I took a deep breath. Carmen’s arm moved to my waist, and I righted myself. I couldn’t seem weak. I had to get my reactions under control.

  “I haven’t worn heels in a long time. These are getting the best of me.” I forced a nervous laugh.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to practice here, madam,” Carmen noted.

  I didn’t normally wear red and felt self-conscious about my light skin. Still, the simple A-line of the skirt and V-neck looked elegant on the hanger. Carmen slid in front of me and wove through the crowd. I wondered if there was an occasion or dinner was like this every night. It was a large room with ten tables and eight places set on each. We reached a table in front of a stage, and Carmen pulled a chair out for me. The place cards indicated Jude and I were to be seated next to each other, with Carmen and Alex flanking us.

  “Dr. Antos will join us soon.” Carmen passed a carafe of water to me.

  Filling my glass, I passed it to Jude, who grimaced and forced a thank you. I wondered how long we needed to keep up the charade that he bore malice towards me. It seemed that perhaps he could warm his reaction to me over time. His eyes were so beautiful when he smiled, and I longed for his sparkling gaze.

  “Here we are, the guests of honor.” Dr. Antos squeezed my shoulders and shook Jude’s hand. “I want you to meet Marcus. He holds a seat on the high council.”

  Dr. Antos turned to the gentleman. “Are you the highest-ranking member here tonight?”

  Marcus’s eyes scanned the room. “I believe I am, Miguel.”

  Dr. Antos cleared his throat. “And now that they know my first name, my authority is forever ruined.”

  “Sorry, witch culture is too engrained.” Marcus slapped Dr. Antos on the back. “You younglings call him Miguel whenever you want.” He winked at Jude and me.

  They took their seats at the table. Soon after, a woman approached. Her hair was dark as night and reached down her back nearly to her knees. “Miguel, you and Marcus aren’t causing trouble yet, are you?”

  Dr. Antos stood and kissed her on the cheek. “Not too much. Camille, Jude, this is my wife, Maria.”

  Maria’s eyes landed on me. “Oh heavens, look at you dear, sandwiched over there between those brutes. Would you like to sit beside me?”

  Jude’s hand squeezed my thigh. “I’m okay, thank you,” I told her, wrapping my hand around his.

  “You two must be exhausted.” She continued some polite conversation about Iceland and Los Angeles until wine was poured and bread brought to the table.

  Mom didn’t let me drink, so I let my glass sit. Jude sipped at his. “Kinda takes the edge off,” he noted holding up the dark liquid.

  I forced a smile at him, keeping up our ruse. The meal was uncomfortable as Carmen and Alex talked over us, and Marcus, Maria, and Dr. Antos held their own conversation. At the end of the meal, Dr. Antos, or Miguel, I guessed, walked up the steps to the podium on the stage. He introduced Jude and me as new initiates, and we stood and waved as the crowd clapped for us. My face burned with embarrassment, and I wished I were anywhere but there.

  As the desserts were brought in, I scanned the room for anyone who resembled Theron, Thanatos, or Sonia. Seeing only slight feature similarities, I refocused on my tablemates noting Miguel’s and Jude’s resemblances to Thanatos and Theron, respectively, trumped any I’d noted at the other tables. The thought had me second guessing my relationship with Jude.

  Walking to our rooms, Jude re-started our secret conversation. Are you scared?

  Petrified, you?

  Warily mindful of my surroundings. Practice your magic as much as you can. We need to be as strong as possible.

  Noted. We reached our doors. Goodnight. I longed to look at him but didn’t dare.

  “Miss.” Carmen spoke as I turned the key in my lock.

  “You will have another guard, Nicole, here for the night. Anything you need, just ask her.”

  “Thank you.” I opened my door and locked it behind me, relaxing my back on the soft wood.

  Finding my pajamas, I washed up and brushed my teeth. I was exhausted, and magic had to wait for another day. The books on the desk caught my eye, and I examined the one on top. Early Earth History, the title read.

  The huge bed with the lavish down comforter felt odd after a month at the camp. Still, I wasn’t one to waste resources, and I snuggled in the middle, propping my head up on three pillows. The cover of the book was worn, as if it was very old, and I opened to the first page. A crude illustration of the Earth and sky held labels of Heaven, above the sky, and Sheol, below the Earth.

  The text began with the story of creation of the light and the dark, earth, and the sky, animals, and then Adam. I didn’t get much beyond the story of Lilith being cast out of the Garden of Eden and Eve’s creation before my eyes grew heavy. The last picture I viewed was of an angel reaching down from heaven to touch a woman’s hand. Michael and Lilith, the caption read.

  Images of angels danced through my dreams, waking me more than once. It was dark and cold, and I curled up under my covers till I fell back asleep each time. The alarm beside my bed woke me at five. With heavy eyes, I felt no less rested than the previous night. Thinking the traveling and odd atmosphere weighed on me, I stretched out, performed some yoga poses, and worked on my core exercises. I knew one thing for certain: I had to be as strong as possible, mentally, physically, and metaphysically.

  Deciding there was no time like the present to stretch my powers, I tried to turn the water on. When nothing happened, I gave up and twisted the knob. In the shower, I levitated the bar of soap to my hand. At least I’ll have clean enemies, I thought. As I tested my powers on each task, I realized all I could do was lift things. Thinking about the battle scene in my visions and Jude’s powers, I realized those witches were using air to manipulate other things. I focused on my hairbrush, thinking of air twirling it in a circle. My head throbbed from the strain, but the handle started to move and turn in a counter clockwise direction. After one, slow revolution, I couldn’t bear the pain between my temples any longer.

  When there was a thud on the door, I opened it to see Carmen. “Breakfast, madam.”

  Beyond him, I ignored Jude’s figure. Good morning. He communicated to me without turning his head.

  Good morning.

  You look horrible.

  Thanks. Practicing magic.

  Good for you. But don’t push yourself too hard.

  I’m not sure there’s time for anything else. How are we supposed to find out anything being guarded twenty-four-seven?

  We just have to wait for an opportunity.

  We met Dr. Antos and his wife Maria for breakfast in the smaller dining room.

  “Any word on my dad?” I asked right away.

  “No. I’ll let you know when there is.” Dr. Antos brought his coffee cup to his lips.

  Although he instructed us to call him Miguel, as it was witch custom to greet each other with given names, my mind kept reverting back. As an attendant delivered tea, Dr, Antos, or Miguel, I guessed, handed us printed schedules. In the mornings, we had three hours for schoolwork followed by athletic activity. The afternoons were dedicated to witch studies and magic practice. In the evenings, we had time for additional workouts and reading.

  “There are four parts to coven initiation representing each line of our people: earth for the line of Uriel, air for the line of Raphael, water for the line of Gabriel, and fire for the line of Michael,” Miguel told us once we’d finished reading the page.

  “The archangels?” I asked. “Did the archangels create witches?”

  “The arch
angels are our oldest living ancestors. They wanted a people of their own here on Earth and sired children with humans. We will have one of Uriel’s lines lay hands on you and discover which line you belong to. Michael’s serves as leaders, Gabriel’s children are messengers, Raphael’s healers, and Uriel’s are keepers of wisdom.”

  My head spinning, I picked up the teacup in front of me. It had a strong flavor, and I set it down.

  “You must drink the entire cup, child,” Maria instructed. “I blended it myself. It’s Miguel’s job to train you. It’s my job to keep you well. The tea contains essential oils of clove bud, cinnamon bark, lemon, and Eucalyptus to strengthen your immunity.”

  I sipped the tea sparingly eating bits of bread and eggs in between. It was hard not to wish I were back home with my bowl of cereal and Tyler harassing me about boys.

  When we finished our meal, we were instructed to freshen up and meet Miguel at the library in half an hour. As we snaked through the maze of halls to our room, I wondered which line I was descended from. I guessed Hunter must be of Michael’s line since Hunter’s father was high priest. But which line did Alena belong to? Who created Jude’s?

  Worrying about lineage? came Jude’s voice in my head.

  It took all my muster not to jump. Can you read my thoughts now?

  No, I just guessed. I’m concerned this fortune teller will know I may be part vampire. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. My mom has the same allergies as me. She was adrift for a long time until she joined this holistic community. She must be part vampire.

  Did you ever meet her parents?

  Just her mom. I believe she was normal.

  What about your dad’s parents? They must be witches. Have you tried to contact them?

  I didn’t want to talk to them about this. I thought it might put them in danger. Plus, our conversations could be monitored. I’ll keep my thoughts away from my mom when the seer reads me.

  Good idea.

  We reached our rooms, and I picked up where I’d left off in the text from the night before. The next section relayed how the angels sired children with humans, creating lines of people with heavenly powers. Engrossed in the story, my alarm startled me. I opened the door to find Carmen’s balled fist held up as if he were about to knock.

  “Oh, madam, are you ready?”

  “Yes.” We snaked our way through the halls.

  “There is nothing to be nervous about. The seer will help you find your natural talents,” Alex said as we boarded the elevator.

  Thinking fast, I decided to appear squeamish. “As long as it doesn’t involve blood.”

  “Well, I won’t promise that,” Alex told us.

  “Wonderful, now she’s going to faint.” Jude rolled his eyes.

  “A lot of people don’t like the sight of blood.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  The library was one level down from the main floor. After going between the central wing and our rooms, I thought I might be able to find that route myself but wondered how long it would take to learn where everything was.

  “Do they have a map of this place?” I asked as we made turn after turn.

  Carmen shrugged. “Someone does. Mine is in my head.”

  We stopped at a large set of wooden doors, and Alex put his finger on a panel and then stood in front of a retina scanner. I guessed the compound had as much security as the tightest government agency. Inside, the walls were lined with bookshelves reaching at least twelve feet up. A staircase led to a second level with rows of texts.

  “We will leave you in Miguel’s care.” Carmen motioned to where Dr. Antos sat with a white-haired woman.

  Miguel stood as we approached. “Camille, Jude, this is Anastasia.”

  “Hi.” I forced a smile, and my hand shook as I slid it in her soft palm.

  “There’s no need for fear, child.” She folded her other hand over mine. “If we know your lineage, we can better direct your training.”

  I just hoped my lineage was the only thing she was after. Could she read minds too?

  We sat in tufted chairs around a round wood table. A shallow bowl of water and a knife occupied the center.

  “Who would like to be first?” Anastasia’s voice was barely a whisper, and her words seemed to evaporate as soon as she muttered them.

  “You may need some smelling salts for her.” Jude pointed to me and moved to the edge of his chair, offering his hand to her.

  “Give me your arm. Hands take so long to heal.”

  He tugged his sleeve up, revealing the two previous cuts from camp.

  “What happened there?” Miguel asked.

  “It was wilderness. I don’t remember.”

  “Let us proceed.” Anastasia’s shoulders curled over her body so her head barely summited the table, and her hand shook as she reached for Jude. I feared his arm would be shredded, but as soon as she took his wrist, she sliced Jude’s arm in one clean motion. She held it over the bowl and let forty drops of blood plop into the bowl. I knew this because I counted them, thinking I might be sick. It wasn’t the blood that bothered me as much as thinking our true intentions could be discovered.

  With trembling hands, Anastasia picked up the bowl and swallowed all the contents. Setting it down, she reclined in her chair and closed her eyes.

  Without moving she spoke. “You are half witch, although the line is strong in you. You were born on the spring equinox to a man of the line of Gabriel.”

  A messenger, I thought. It would make sense that he felt drawn to me. If his act wasn’t a ruse, and I was ninety percent assured of that, her assessment confirmed his role as herald and protector of the trinity.

  Miguel leaned forward in his seat. “Is that all you see?”

  She sat there for longer than I was comfortable with. My palms started to sweat, and I rubbed them on my pants.

  “That is all I am given today. Halflings are harder to see.” Anastasia opened her eyes, and her gaze landed on me. “Now for you, dear.”

  She pulled another bowl from a bag beside her chair and poured water from a flask.

  “This is holy water from the river Jordan. Jesus was baptized in the river, and the water was made divine,” Miguel explained.

  “Was Jesus a witch?” Jude asked.

  “No, he was purely of God, as the Bible writes. Jesus, like his father, did not recognize our kind.”

  Anastasia laid her hands on the table. “Jesus and witches are the only beings who have performed miracles on Earth.”

  “What about the Saints?” I questioned.

  “God grants them powers temporarily.”

  “What of angels? Can they interact with humans?” I asked.

  “When they wish,” Miguel answered. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, hoping Anastasia hadn’t discovered Jude’s vampire line.

  I hiked up my sleeve and held my arm out to her, presenting the uncut one so Miguel wouldn’t suspect Jude and I had shared our blood. Anastasia extracted a new blade from her bag and sliced my skin. The cut burned, and I bit my lip. After the drops fell into the water, I covered the wound with a dressing Miguel handed me.

  Anastasia again drank the mixture and reclined to her seatback. “Although a halfling, Camille has a very strong aura. She was born on the day of light to a man of the house of Raphael.”

  “No wonder she cares about people so much,” Jude said under his breath.

  Miguel cleared his throat. “No wonder you two are at odds. Camille, don’t kill the messenger, no matter how much you want to.”

  I looked at his upturned lips and realized he’d told a joke. Our psychiatrist, turned mentor, had a sense of humor after all.

  He stood. “Well, we should get to work. Thank you, Anastasia. Can we be of any assistance with your things?”

  “Yes, why don’t you have the younglings carry my bags back to my chambers? I could use a rest.”

  When the ancient witch had packed all her things, Jude and I each took a bag. Step by st
ep, we followed her and Miguel up three floors and then to the east side of the castle. Her pace barely rivaled that of a turtle, and I noticed Jude twitch beside me. When we entered the room, I realized we were in one of the towers. The walls ringed the room in a large arc. It was a much bigger space than mine, with a desk and what looked to be a lab table cut from dark wood. We set the bags beside a bench as she instructed. Miguel thanked her again and bid her well as we left.

  “How old is she? Will she be okay? Her color looked off,” I said as we made our way to the elevator.

  “She will be fine. Thank you for your patience with her.” His eyes cut to Jude, and I wondered if the teacher was trying to show me favor. He’d seemed so pro-Jude before, dismissing my visions as the dreams of an overly imaginative teen. Perhaps he wanted a reaction from Jude.

  “We could’ve done that task in a fourth of the time.” Jude shook his head.

  Miguel pushed the button for the lowest basement level four floors down.

  “But how old is she? How long do witches live?” I repeated my questions.

  “In general, about nine hundred years, but some, like her, are known to live into the thousands. Anastasia is some eleven hundred years old.” He held his finger up.” I will tell you my age but don’t ask about Maria’s. She is very sensitive. I am seven hundred and three.”

  “You were born in the thirteen hundreds?” Jude asked.

  “Yes, right here in Sardinia.”

  “No wonder you’re smart.”

  We exited the elevator and walked to the end of a long corridor. “Now for some stretching of your abilities.” Miguel opened one of a set of double doors.

  Windows with a view of the ocean lined the south end of the room, and the sun shone through the glass, lighting the whole space. The other walls were lined with weapons of all types: blades, arrows, sticks, chains, and balls of various sizes. Large buckets filled with water and a pile of logs flanked a fireplace in the center of the north wall. A thick mat covered most of the wood floor.

  “The first section of your preparation is largely academic, but your magic is under developed. If you hope to survive to join our coven, you must be stronger,” Miguel continued.

 

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