by Erin R Flynn
“Says the guy who was King of England for a while,” Jaxon chuckled.
“I’m sorry, what?” I whispered, my eyes going wide as I looked at him.
“Um, yeah, like fifteen hundred years ago.” He shrugged. “Mother found having one of her children rule the humans as leader of the country kept both sides under control and protected as she was constantly protecting our coven from others. The humans had long forgotten about us—”
“Or specifically erased us from history, as if that would make us not exist,” Darius interjected. “Mother used to say that the power of the mind was great and too many could truly live with their heads in the sand and never see what was right in front of them.”
“Unfortunately,” Cerdic sighed. “Right, so humans elevated themselves, and that’s when it started to be them versus us and the covens worried only about them and the humans did their own thing. However, the gods and goddesses weren’t fans of this, so some say they just threw up their hands and returned to heaven with Aether, others they’ve died in despair at what became of everything.”
“Others lie and say their god or goddess still talks to them,” Jaxon added.
That seemed really pointed, and I whipped around to let him see it hurt me. “I’ve not said that, just I get feelings, and you’ve seen the map. I didn’t do that—”
“Not you, not you, Inez,” he murmured, reaching forward and rubbing my shoulder. “I mean some princesses talk like they take tea with their goddess, like there’s a room for it in their coven. That’s crap. I don’t know it was ever like that. Mother said the memories she was gifted made it clear our ancestor never met the goddess our family was champion of, just feelings and whatever like you get.”
“And a lot of everything is supposition or filling in the blanks,” Cerdic explained. “My mother is not a descendant of Heimdall, the Norse god. The first princess of the house Wessex was pushed to form a coven as others have told you. From there stories were told or pieces put together. The original Wessex coven was said to not be pulled into the fights of humans, but lent protection to other covens.
“We seemed to be able to see four steps ahead and would sound the alarm when true trouble came. So of course the house of Wessex was the champion of Heimdall. He was the same for Asgard and protector of many. It made absolute sense as someone found a horn that must have been left by him and became part of our family crest.”
“So it’s not vision quests or being born of the gods but sort of like picking team captains to rally under and be the guardian angel of the coven?” I was tired, trying to piece it together.
“Sort of but with a bit more reverence than a team mascot,” Cerdic said, his tone warning. Made sense. People didn’t like it when others demeaned their religion… Even if it was with reality, but I got it.
“Okay, got it, but what’s with the lesson? I have to find someone to champion for to start my coven?”
“No, we’re pretty sure we know who picked you,” Darius reminded me.
Cerdic swallowed loudly. “It fits, and I don’t disbelieve the Goddess chose you, but I think I need a bit more time, as to even suggest being chosen as the champion of Aether is something some would kill you for. It goes against all most believe in.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not saying it, they did,” I grumbled, gesturing in the back. “And I think the apocalypse shook up everyone’s beliefs.”
“Yes, but the lesson is to start schooling you, as your message was good, but we’re going to start catching you up. Like if you sent a horn to my coven, it’s sort of a slight, as they aren’t the original Wessex coven but an offshoot and took over a coven, essentially the new champion of that goddess. And that goddess is Flindais, a Celtic goddess of woodlands and wild things.
“She supposedly had a magic cow that could produce milk for hundreds a day. She could shapeshift and rode in a deer-drawn chariot. So you would never, not ever send my sister like meat or hide. If you wanted to show friendship, you would send her a live wild animal, as it honors the goddess she champions and you would entrust something beautiful the gods created in her care.”
I had a thought and then winced.
“You were thinking you were glad there were less covens to keep track of,” Darius surmised, reaching over and rubbing my arm. “You didn’t mean that you wanted their death. It’s okay, and you can’t help your thoughts.”
“How did you know?” I whispered, thinking that was a damn good guess.
“Because I thought I was glad they couldn’t communicate with you easily as they could have a decade ago, as that would be a disaster given you didn’t grow up with this, and then my heart hurt, as I lost my whole family coven for the reason they can’t communicate with you. I never wanted any of this.”
“Me either,” I promised, taking his hand and holding it behind the center armrest so he wasn’t reaching over and could sit comfortably. “Do you know how many and who are left?”
“I know a lot,” Cerdic muttered, rubbing his hand over his mop of curls. “I felt the need to check the damage after the bombs stopped all over. I have a feeling all the nobles who will come to you will have done the same. It felt the only way to put a bandage on the gushing wound of loss, to see what still stood and survived, but I have a feeling we all got the same instinct.”
“Yeah, we’ve discussed that,” Jaxon admitted, gesturing between Darius and himself. “That and how many of the most powerful covens that would have been her biggest, immediate threats were taken out.”
“Not mine—but others’—pride kept them in huge target areas, even though others learned and relocated covens or kept the founding land but blended most of the coven and court into the background,” Darius explained. “The Katz coven—there was never a good area to relocate, as there were so many wars and battles always and with new enemies. It had stood so long and so many always focused on Jerusalem—”
“It made sense they could withstand the test of time,” Cerdic comforted. “Unfortunately for them, the bloody aim wasn’t as high of a priority as it should have been.”
I squeezed Darius’s hand. I didn’t remember any of it. Not the outbreak, not the beginning attacks or bombs—none of it. It seemed like a handicap to be so ignorant, but sometimes it seemed like the best way to erase the traumas I would have felt and endured.
The traumas others suffered with. Granted, it didn’t seem like that meant easy sailing for me, not at all.
“So we need to start putting together a map of covens that are still standing and give me the short version of what I need to know like insults and good gifts sort of thing.” I sighed. “That makes sense, but it’s hard to know where the line is, as clearly not having any memories or getting the other memories meant I wasn’t supposed to live in the past or start differently than other covens.”
“It will be a balancing act,” Cerdic agreed. “But the four of us have discussed a real cover for you, one you will allude to, as you already know no one should demand answers from you. You’ll understand it better as you know more now.”
“Okay, hit me,” I muttered, wondering if I was going to like it. It had to be smart if four seriously experienced guys agreed on it.
“You were a princess not meant to inherit her birth coven,” Cerdic informed me. “Instead of being adopted into another coven or taking one over, when you came of age during the fucking apocalypse, you decided to start anew. You knew you were going to build your own coven and will. You wouldn’t have gotten the gift of memories of that house anyways, so you chose a name that fit your plans.
“And given your power with ghosts and them turning into seeds, you took that as someone’s blessing, maybe a new whomever, but you don’t need to be someone’s champion, as you’re the champion of survivors. You’ve already gathered some of us who are lost, and you will build your coven, your court around bringing the best of the old into the new world as we survived and must build anew.”
I sat with that a few moments. “So not disrespec
ting any of the covens or princesses, but it’s not a position to brush off—even if different—as of course people adjust to survive. They have to in order to have made it so long. Smart.”
“Yes, and it’s believable without ever giving the answer that you may be Aether’s champion,” Jaxon muttered. “This is where alliances will help as friends will back the tale you wish to tell. If pushed, say your birthplace is no more, as your ID said you were from LA. Don’t answer specifics, as that’s when you get caught.”
“You weren’t going to inherit a coven, so that’s not a lie,” Darius added. “You did find the name, and it does fit you. Let others make the connections.”
“But you guys really do believe in a lot of this, right?” I asked quietly, not wanting to offend them.
“Absolutely,” Cerdic answered. “And you do some of it now too as you know what you feel. You saw that Clarence was killed for breaking the rules, I heard. You’ve seen proof as we have. Someone is in charge, and pieces fit. There has been much to show it’s Aether, but the rest is—we as people fill in the gaps. It might not be Heimdall but Fred. Who knows? That’s the part you accept as that house’s story.”
“Got it.” They gave me a bit to sit with it. “Yeah, okay, that sounds smart. If you guys all agree, I think it’s the best play, and only those who come now get that story or if they swear to me an oath or whatever.” I glanced at Cerdic. “Can you swear not to tell anyone?”
“Yes, and I will, as I agree you need to be protected, and my sister is a jealous woman who is not happy the apocalypse happened in her reign.”
I bobbed my head. “Okay, so where do we start? We make plans for a house, right?”
“I’ve been designing since I met you,” Darius told me.
“Right, you saw that room.” I cleared my throat. “I saw it too.”
He raised my hand to his lips. “I’ve seen much more than your room, My Princess. I have seen much in my dreams and have been working when I can and with the leopards. It won’t be just a house but a city, a coven in its own city.” He nodded when I swallowed loudly. “We have to build anew.”
“Right, power grid and water and sanitation and all of it,” I muttered, letting go of his hand and curling up a bit. “That’s a lot.”
“Yes, but you have help who knows how to do it and where to start,” Jaxon told me gently. “What did you see of your room?”
“Should I be telling you this?” I asked Darius as I stared out the window. “What’s just a dream and what’s to be? How do you know the difference, and why should I do it because I saw it?” I let out a snort. “Some of it was incredibly spoiled and even ridiculous.”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “I saw a huge library, a wonderous library that we built and books of all kinds lined the shelves. They were all yours, but I saw you be generous and allow those in your coven to have access to them. I saw the joy you gave them as they had a chance to read what others couldn’t anymore and all while they were safe. So that’s not spoiled even when it’s all yours, My Princess.”
“Maybe,” I sighed. “But a massive fucking circular bed on a dais in a huge room is seriously over the top.”
“Yes, but what else did you see?” Jaxon asked.
I frowned. “I was lying in the middle of it and pillows were around me. Your head was on one, Darius on another, but there were more pillows.” I snorted, thinking of the snarky comments I’d made when I’d woken up. “Yeah, like Knights of the Round Table but the dirty version with a girl in the middle.”
“Funny, but I think you saw that no matter how many nobles you will allow at your side, they will all be equal in your eyes, not the normal court pecking order shit,” Cerdic told me. “All of us lying with you, within your reach as if you couldn’t have it any other way. You just don’t know who’s in those spots yet.”
“How many pillows were there?” Darius asked.
I swallowed loudly, realizing they were taking this seriously. “Lots, but I got the feeling it wasn’t one per person, as Darius was sort of propped up on two. They didn’t all match either. I was snarking about pillow forts and crazy pillow fights.”
“I think that makes it clear that the final choice is yours and to not be upset at the guidance being given to you,” Darius said gently. “Maybe seeing it was what you need to think you could really have it. But do what you want, My Princess. Was there anything you saw that you wanted?”
“I don’t know, it’s a lot,” I muttered, hitting my limit and not in the mood to fantasize and dream when there was so much crap to handle first. “So we have my backstory, but now we need to map out covens?”
“Already on that,” Jaxon told me. “When you went to that bookstore and picked up some more cookbooks, I snagged an atlas and some hardcover journals. Kristof agreed to give a lot of the history he knows, as he didn’t check in anywhere after the bombs and destruction, but he’s a font of information on lots about other covens. That will be in the background you can read as you want.
“The rest we’ll start plotting, and the first layer will be the quick version like Cerdic gave of the house Wessex. He can add layers later or more in depth of his knowledge. But the priority is to get you up to speed on what covens we know are still around and highlights.”
“Yeah, okay, cool,” I muttered. “School over. I want to nap before the ghosts start.” I shook my head. “Right, no ghosts after my meltdown and not hunting.” I frowned. No, we had done some clearing.
“Are you okay, Inez?” Jaxon worried.
“Tired. Confused. Overwhelmed,” I confessed, my tone clearly saying I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and I didn’t. Enough had been dumped on me for sure.
I didn’t nap though, and when we took a quick bathroom break and to stretch, I asked Asher for the keys to the cargo van. He gave them over with a kiss to my cheek, getting I wanted some alone time to think especially since I had my favorite iPod in my hand.
Vance came jogging over and handed me a plastic food container. “My sister used to say they made everything better from cramps to grief to feeling like you were drowning. I made a lot when our dad died, and I think now is perfect since we have butter and eggs.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek and the corner of my lips. “We got you, Inez. You’re not alone. I know you’re boss and it’s scary. I know that.”
He did, the oldest of his cousins. I thanked him and got in the van, touched when I saw it was fresh chocolate chip cookies. Dozens of them. Nice. One of them had said chocolate chips didn’t really go bad, maybe just got gritty, so we’d picked up a bunch for when we could use them.
We’d found a lot of ways already, melting some over popcorn now that we had a popcorn maker. That was an awesome snack, the blend of salty sweet, but this was better. Especially because he’d made them just for me when I needed them.
And they did help.
I thought about what Cerdic had said about Taylor Swift and loaded the playlist on the iPod with her songs, turning up the volume as the semi pulled back on the road. The truck pulling the trailer went next and then normally the SUV, but I went next, knowing they wouldn’t want me as the last vehicle. It was overprotective, but since I didn’t remember anyone ever protecting me, it meant a lot to me.
Tears filled my eyes as I bit into a cookie. They were awesome, but I could almost taste the sadness in them as Vance had thought of his lost family while he’d made them. I understood the point of that though.
We were his family now. We were building a family of our own, pulling survivors in and working for a future.
It was just scary to be the boss of that future. I couldn’t run from who I was though, and I did believe them. The fangs were pretty fucking convincing. Plus, it wasn’t all of them with just a story. No, Darius had started it and Jaxon echoed it along with the leopards. Even Clarence in his crazy had confirmed it was the truth. Kristoff and now Cerdic. Everyone was saying the same thing.
I’d long since stopped wondering if it was a con.
So I believed, and that meant it was my life too. I didn’t want to be in someone else’s court. The idea of taking one over made me nauseous. And a home sounded nice. I was grateful we had that option when so many were still dying.
Then what was my problem? The journey wouldn’t be easy, and I’d been on it for years. It seemed I still had a long way to go, so that was hard. But nothing would be easy for anyone from now on. Maybe it was a bit of relief that there was a plan mixed in with fear of the plan and having to commit to it. Others would rely on me, so it wasn’t like I could just blow it off later.
In reality, I never could have. This was always going to be how things played out, and maybe I was okay with that. I had Darius and Jaxon. They loved me, and if I was honest, I knew I loved them. How deeply or what level was still fuzzy, but I loved them. So wasn’t that worth the troubles and uphill battle we’d face?
Fuck yes. Undoubtedly. I knew that in my heart. It was still a lot, and I was glad I’d called the time out and took the time alone. I let my brain swirl and swirl as I drove, eating cookies, handling ghosts, and singing with the songs playing.
It felt like a sign when “Out of the Woods” came on because we weren’t, but we could be one day. One day we could have everything, and I was willing to work for that because as Vance said, I wasn’t alone. Even if I had to find myself and who I really was still, I wasn’t alone while I did that.
And that made all the difference.
11
The trip time had come up on the GPS as thirty-five hours, but given we were driving through mountains and roads that hadn’t been maintained in the past six years—some not in the best condition for a semi and trailer—we were careful. We took more shorter breaks so everyone was sharp and rotated often. But it put the trip at almost two days. Kristof had gone ahead to clear Anchorage and surrounding areas.
Well, that was one way to handle coming into a new town. Fine by me, as he wasn’t around to loom or stare so I could relax. It did make sense though given how many corrupted we’d found in New Brunswick and that area. People probably would have headed north, thinking the less populated areas safer.
