Chapter 16 #2
“Stay here.” Malcolm rushed down the hall to answer. She heard a panicked female voice, and the deep pained groan of a man.
“Hurry. This way.” Malcolm entered the living room, followed by two women helping a man walk between them. It was Reginald Wellesley, Malcolm’s father. And he looked ill, terribly ill, his skin was almost white, his eyes sunken, and his breathing labored.
Calli got up and pushed the coffee table out of the way so the women could ease Reginald down on the couch.
Malcolm helped, taking most of his father’s weight.
Before Calli could ask anything, one of the women turned to Malcolm.
She wore a dark green velvet gown and had a midnight blue cloak draped around her shoulders.
“Malcolm Wellesley,” she addressed him. “I am Lady Serafina Batsford. You are hereby ordered to report to the Council tonight and swear your oath of service.”
“Wait—” Calli looked at the witch. “Who are you? You don’t have the right to tell him to do anything!”
The witch didn’t even acknowledge her, continuing to stare at Malcolm. “If you fail to do so, your father will die. Most likely tonight.”
“What?” Malcolm’s face drained of color and he looked from his father to the other woman, who Calli realized must be Malcolm’s mother. She looked like him, except for her eyes, which were so clearly his father’s. This was the non-magical mother who’d been so loving to her son.
Calli moved toward Malcolm, reaching for his hand, but he turned away, facing his mother, his back to Calli. His name was on her lips, but she didn’t speak, even though she was so confused by what was happening.
“Mom—” Malcolm started.
“It’s true, Malcolm,” his mother said, her lips thin, a frown knitting her brows together. “Your father didn’t make a blood promise, like he’d told us he did. He made a blood vow.”
Calli’s blood iced in her veins. A blood vow?
If that was true, then Malcolm had to do whatever he had to in order to save his father.
Hadn’t Zelda said someone had made a blood vow about Malcolm?
They hadn’t believed her at the time, because Malcolm had said he would have known.
But while the blood vow had been made regarding Malcolm, it also wasn’t Malcolm’s vow, which explained why had his father kept silent about it.
But to make a blood vow about someone else?
That was crazy! Her grandmother had called it magical gambling, because you could never guarantee that what you wanted to happen would happen.
It wasn’t just about intent, either. Life and circumstances got in the way.
You could end up dying because someone got stuck at an airport when you’d vowed they’d be somewhere else. It was that unpredictably dangerous.
“Dad… why did you—?” Malcolm didn’t finish as he stared at his father, betrayal flashing across his face.
“I’m sorry… I never imagined it would be like this. I never…” Reginald’s voice was a bare rasp, and sweat beaded on his forehead. His pallor terrified Calli. She knew what the paleness of death looked like all too well.
“Dad…” Malcolm begged.
“When the Council learned about your prophecy, they were adamant that you would someday serve with them. So much so that they wanted to take custody of you.”
Malcolm blinked. “What?”
“You were to be raised by them, safe, but secluded away. The only life you would know would be as one of them.”
“They can do that?”
“We were desperate to have you serve with us, Malcolm,” said Lady Serafina Batsford. “The prophecy foretold what you could do for our world. And there are those who believed we had to make sure it came to pass, at any cost. You would have been safe with us, raised by one of our families.”
“He… deserved to be happy… with your own family,” Reginald said, “Your mother… deserved to be part of your life.”
Malcolm’s mother fought off a sob and covered her mouth. She must not have known what her husband had done.
He was struggling to speak now. “So I…”
Lady Batsford took over. “The Council discussed the matter. We were willing to let your father and mother raise you, but we required assurances that you would take your place when the day finally arrived.”
“The blood vow,” said Malcolm.
“You were… so talented,” said Reginald. “Even as a baby, I could sense… how strong you were… I was certain that when you knew what you were capable of… you would want to join… But then…”
“Then I lost it all in the accident,” said Malcolm.
“And… I realized I was trapped,” said Reginald. “You came to hate magic… you lost your trust in me and I was still bound to my vow… but I couldn’t tell you…” He shook his head, but Calli understood.
Making Malcolm choose between a life he hated and his father’s life would have destroyed him. “But I had hoped… I could still convince you… to choose…so I cast the binding spell that night you left, but even then…you were too strong…” His voice trailed off.
Malcolm had to serve on the council. There was no way out of it now.
He looked at Calli and she saw the fear in his eyes, as though he was about to lose her forever. But it didn’t have to come to that, did it? They would figure out a way to make their relationship work. It wasn’t the end of the world.
Calli slipped her hand in his and squeezed his fingers. “Malcolm, you have to do it.”
The witch in the green cloak, who had to be from the Council, finally noticed Calli, and her eyes flared wide. “What are you doing here?” The woman looked between Malcolm and Calli in confusion.
“This is my house,” Calli said flatly, glaring at the witch. “And I have every right to be here.”
“I meant why are you with him? With Malcolm?”
Malcolm’s face darkened. “Calli and I have almost witch-locked. Yes, she’s a hedge witch. But I don’t care what you or anyone on the council thinks, Lady Batsford. She belongs with me and I with her.”
Malcolm’s mother gasped. “Wait—does that mean you’re engaged?”
Malcolm gave his mother a tender look that tore at Calli’s heart. “Mom, it’s a magical bond, a real bond,” Malcolm said. “Deeper than marriage.”
“Oh!” His mother’s gaze turned to Calli who flinched, but she saw no judgment in the woman’s eyes, and that gave her back her strength to stand tall beside Malcolm.
Yes, she was a hedge witch. But she wasn’t going to let anyone make her feel ashamed about it, not ever.
Lady Batsford’s eyes widened. “I can sense the bond between you… but it would be a terrible mistake for you to let it happen. For both of you.”
“Because she’s a hedge witch?” said Malcolm, his voice a challenge.
Lady Batsford frowned. “No. Because…” She looked to Calli. “You are Callista Moira Wynter, are you not? The last daughter of Celestine Skycaster’s bloodline?”
“Yes…” Calli said uncertainly. The Council witch’s earlier shocked reaction at seeing her now took on a different, and more disturbing significance. How did she know who she was?
Reginald’s eyes grew round as saucers when he heard her full name. He looked to Lady Batsford. “You mean, she is the one? I had hoped foolishly that it was a coincidence and not…”
A deep sorrow replaced the witch’s frustration as she turned to Malcolm. “It’s not because she is a hedge witch, my boy. It’s because of who she is, and what you did to her.”
“Did to her?” Malcolm’s voice was hard as stone. “What are you talking about?”
Lady Batsford turned back to Calli, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Calli. Malcolm is the reason your parents are dead. It is better that you learn that now before the witch-lock is complete.”
“I … what?” Malcolm stammered.
“That’s not possible. My parents… were hit by a truck. Malcolm wasn’t there.” Calli insisted, her hands shaking as adrenaline spiked her blood. “I would have remembered.”
“The broom accident, when you were a boy,” Lady Batsford said.
“You flew across a highway and a semi-truck swerved when it nearly hit you… You tried to regain control as you shot across a field and fell into a barbed wire fence much further away. What you did not know was that Callista’s family was in the opposite lane from that truck.
They were forced off the road when they tried to avoid the truck and their car rolled down a hill. ”
Calli went numb. Her body froze, and her fingers slipped out of Malcolm’s hand.
Screeching tires. The crunch of metal as the car rolled. Screams. Vines shooting painfully out of her arms to protect her. The fading stardust of her parents’ familiars. The sightless stare of her mother…
“No…” Malcolm said. “That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Reginald said. “Serafina met with me that night. You must remember that after you returned home, I left for the evening.”
“You left because you were disappointed in me. You—”
His father shook his head. “No, I sensed something was wrong. Death clung to you like a shadow. I decided to retrace your route and found the wreckage.” He nodded toward Calli.
“I saw her, down the hill, a child wrapped in vines and unharmed, but her parents were gone. I called for help, but it was far too late.” He sagged a little.
Even talking was draining him at this point.
“I contacted Serafina, who found the child’s grandmother and collected the child.
Then Serafina and I went to the town to make sure what you had done didn’t have even more consequences. ”
What you had done…
His words hit Calli like a slap across the face, though they weren’t meant for her.
“No…” Malcolm whispered as he turned to face her. “That can’t be… No, Calli. I didn’t—”
But it all fit into place. The prophecy that her parents would leave her and that their absence would bring Malcolm to her. Never in a million years would she have guessed that he’d be responsible for their deaths.