Chapter 24
Rumor
Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my shoulders, tugging me into an embrace.
I startled, pulling back to look up at him—taking in his gray, pointed cat ears atop his mop of silver hair.
His slitted eyes took me in, and Twenty offered a lopsided smile.
“Seemed like you needed a friend.” He shrugged. “I’m here to serve.”
A sob choked from my throat as I flung myself at him, wrapping myself in his hold. Twenty squeezed me tight, shushing my cries. “You’re a terrible familiar.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’ll think of worse to call you then, when I’m not crying and exhausted.”
“Want to go fuck up the solstice circle? That was out of line of the crone. She had no business—”
“No,” I interrupted, roughly drying the hot tears from my eyes. “As much as I hate them and want to turn them all into slugs… they’re not wrong to cast me out. I’m a liability. Look at me.” I shook my head. “I’ve fallen so deep into wrong… I don’t even know what right looks like anymore.”
Twenty leaned back on his palms, looking up at the twinkling stars of the inky night sky. “Perhaps you’ve spent too much time fighting between black or white, you’ve forgotten that much exists within the gray.”
“What is that supposed to mean? And don’t think I missed the subtle little nod to you and your brothers there.”
Twenty huffed a laugh, his canines flashing in the moonlight.
“Clearly us Blackthorne boys are on your mind.” He smirked.
“But no, as you’re familiar, I can only guide you towards your greatest good.
That urge compels me to advise you to look at what you think you know, really examine it, and be open to the fact that maybe you missed something.
Maybe the world isn’t made up of good and bad, monsters and mortals, magic and mundane…
perhaps there’s a lot of in-between mixed up in there. ”
“I’m afraid if I look too hard at that, I’ll… I’ll…” I let out an exhale and dropped my gaze to examine the wood grain of the porch steps.
We sat in companionable silence for a while before I asked, “Do you like being a familiar to a fuck-up?”
Twenty let out a chuckle. “Do you like having a fuck-up for a familiar?”
A small smile cracked my face. “You’re better than a stag that’s constantly dying… maybe not as useful as a raven, though.”
“Or as cool looking,” Twenty added. “Having wings and being able to fly would be sweet.”
“Do you like being a cat?”
“I prefer it, really.”
“Interesting.”
Twenty clawed lightly at a notch on the wooden porch.
“They both like you, you know. They want you, Riot and Spade. I want you, too. You’ll choose one of them.
Though, I’ll be here regardless as your familiar.
” Twenty ran a hand through his hair and cat ears.
“We aren’t blood related, the three of us.
We call ourselves brothers because we were…
chosen all together. However, they’re bigger, stronger, and whatever else.
Clearly the better choice for a pretty girl.
Plus, doubtful a witch of your caliber would want a cat-man as a mate. ”
“Twenty.” I put my hand on his arm. “You’re amazing, you really are…
and you’re right, I do feel myself torn between your two brothers.
I keep thinking of Riot, drinking on his couch…
and Spade when he came to see me in my mother’s garden, leaning on the pumpkin by the scrying stone. They both are just so—”
“Wait.” Twenty sat up, putting a finger to my lips. “Say that again.”
“Your brothers are so…”
“No, the bit about the garden. What was that?”
“The pumpkin and the scrying stone?”
“Your mother had a scrying stone?”
“Yes?”
“And it’s still there?”
I nodded, more confused than ever. “It doesn’t work. At least, I don’t think so. I never saw mother use it.”
Twenty shot me a sideways glance and grabbed my hand. “Take me to it.”
He pulled me up to stand, and I dusted off my dress. “I’m telling you it doesn’t work. It’s nothing special.”
“Show me,” he insisted, tugging me towards the garden.
We went around the house and through my mother’s garden gate.
Stepping over zucchini and wading past blueberry bushes, we finally reached the overgrown pumpkins.
In the distance, by the back gate I never used and frankly kind of creeped me out, stood the foliage-draped scrying stone.
To any non-witch, it probably looked like a common bird bath or strange statue.
“Here it is,” I huffed, almost tripping over a pumpkin vine. “Like I said, a whole lot of nothing special.”
Twenty pulled at the ivy, clearing off the stone. “I’d agree with you, my dear, Rumor, but then we’d both be wrong.”
I crossed my arms, opening my mouth to respond, when my familiar waved a hand, his attention fixed on the stone as he fought to move the top, or balance it, I wasn’t sure. “Fetch me some water, would you?”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure familiars are supposed to serve witches, not the other way around.”
“Yeah, well, you’re so bad at being a witch, you got kicked out of the Willowspire witch club—so, we won’t be leaning on your knowledge here. So, I guess you’ll just have to do what I say.”
I glared at my cat-eared-man familiar a moment before kicking a rock. “Fine. I’ll get you water. Next you’re going to ask me to catch you a mouse.”
“I might if I thought you’d be any good at it. Unfortunately, you’ve not got the speed, dexterity, or smarts for mouse hunting.” Twenty smiled a facetious grin. “Run along now—fetch.”
I gathered several whole, shelled walnuts from the ground and threw them at him. My familiar only shook his head with a chuckle as the nuts bounced off his shoulders. Retreating to the front gate, I filled a bucket with water from our crop trough and hauled it back to him.
The full moon shone so bright, it washed the typically colorful garden in shades of white and silver. The winter solstice wasn’t my favorite, but it was quite pretty that night.
“Here’s your water,” I announced, wanting to pour the bucket over his head.
He took it and flashed his canines. “What, no mouse?”
“We’re fresh out.”
Twenty poured the water into the now cleaned scrying stone. The water pooled into a smooth black surface, reflecting the moon’s light. “Did your mother make moon water often?”
“Yes, she did. My mother was a hedge witch.”
“Moon water, and the runes carved throughout your house, even into your bedpost, aren’t hedge witchery.”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean? I know what kind of witch my mother was.”
“Are you sure about that? Remember what I said about shades of gray?” Twenty stared into the scrying stone before gesturing that I take a look.
“Not everything is always as it seems. Not even the things we think we know most. I’d dare say, it’s more often the things we’re sure we know—we someday learn we didn’t have a fucking clue about. ”
“I’m pretty sure I know who my own mother was,” I argued, leaning to look into the pool of water.
However, still liquid reflecting the moon isn’t all I beheld.
Beneath the surface, blue runes glowed, pulsating slowly as they transformed into different runes.
Stick symbols and designs like I’d never seen before. “Did you do this?” I asked my familiar.
Twenty shook his head. “No, this scrying stone is left over from the enchantments here in your mother’s garden. Seems she left you and your sister a great deal more than year-round pumpkins.”
“I don’t understand. What do these runes mean?”
“I’m not sure what each of them symbolizes exactly, but I know it’s a spell—an ongoing spell. And I know your mother wasn’t a hedge witch.”
“Then what kind of witch was she? What kind of magic is this?”
“I don’t want to say my first thought… Spade would know, though. Regardless, that’s not why I brought you here.”
“That’s not a small piece of information, Twenty. If my mother was hiding her true witch lineage and sending secret letters to the Viper brothers’ mom, what else was she hiding and why?”
“Those are great questions, but they can wait for a night when the moon isn’t full. We’re losing solstice light, and I’m not confident this will work—or remain hidden from Asunder—outside this moment. Let’s use our time wisely.”
“Use this for what exactly? I’m not very versed in what these stones even do. Goddess knows my old crone never would have taken the time to show me.”
Twenty gripped my shoulders and stood behind me, moving me to stand in front of the scrying stone. Pulling my long hair back and smoothing it along my back, he leaned forward and murmured in my ear, “Who have you lost that you wish to call out to?”
I answered instantly, “My sister.”
I could feel Twenty’s feline smile against my cheek. “Well? Call out to her and see what happens.”
“I—I don’t know if I can.”
“You’re a witch, aren’t you?”
“Not much of one, it would seem.”
“Stop that nonsense. Since when did Rumor Malefic doubt herself? You want to reach your sister? Here you go. It’s the night of the solstice, you have an enchanted and incredibly powerful witch’s tool at your disposal, and a whole hell of a lot of Malefic wisdom and fervor in your blood. Use it.”
I swallowed. “Last time I used my powers to their fullest extent, I…” Flashes of the mighty wither falling to the ground shattered through my mind.
My sister’s scream… the way she rushed to his side and sobbed…
his long claws gently tucking the hair back from her face as she screamed… That twinge in my chest returned.
“I see the shades of gray dancing through your eyes right now, Rumor,” Twenty coaxed. “You know what to do.”
Sucking in a breath, I closed my eyes, not wanting to confront that flash of purple power again. Fearful of my own magic, unsure of my own judgement. However, my familiar was right. If I had a chance to find Prism, to reach out to her, I had to take it. I’d be a fool not to take it.
Opening my eyes, I placed a hand on either side of the wide, thick stone. With nothing to guide me but the centuries of witches before me influencing my movements through knowledge I could scarcely comprehend, I spoke. “Prism Malefic? Prism, it’s your sister, it’s Rumor. Are you there?”
I gazed into the water, the runes dancing and spinning blue light as the full moon reflected back to me. I whispered to Twenty over my shoulder, “Nothing’s happening.”
“Give it a minute. Ancient magic works slower than the quick tricks you kids are accustomed to.”
I rolled my eyes and began to respond when something flickered, catching my eye. My heart leapt into my throat as the runes changed shape… and color. The hue faded from blue to red, then from red to white, and then black. “What’s happening?” I asked.
“Hell if I know. I’m winging this, too,” Twenty responded, watching from behind me.
The water then bubbled, rippling at an alarming pace, and thrashed over the sides of the stone. “You’re supposed to be the expert guiding me,” I whispered through gritted teeth. “Why do other witches get cool magic familiars, and I get winging it cat-boy?”
“You going to keep complaining or pay attention to the stone and… whatever is about to happen?” Twenty nodded towards the water that now swirled in a circle, creating a cone at its center.
I squinted. “There’s something down there…” Leaning forward, I found to get a better look as a figure took form. “Prism!” I called out. “Prism, I’m here. Talk to me, let me know you hear me.”
The outline took shape as the water thinned and moved, still swirling rapidly as if it were fighting to show me its secrets. My palms gripped against the sides of the stone as I desperately leaned forward, fighting to see, to hear, anything. I’d take anything.
Suddenly, the form came into view. Something dark and inky black stood and looked over, seeming to notice me.
It stared at me with hazy white eyes as it stalked closer.
My breath froze in my chest, and my wrists were weak as they held me against the wide rock.
The enormous, muscular monster stopped and looked at me through whatever portal we’d just created.
My gaze caught on the being’s white slash of a scar across his broad chest. “You’re—you’re not Prism,” I managed to stammer out.
After a long pause, the creature spoke. “Prism is my claimed, and will be forevermore, through every realm and every lifetime. Through death, through eternity, she is mine… I am Vore.”