Chapter 5 Who Needs Enemies.
Chapter five
Who Needs Enemies.
Ana Syngeneia
Percy was speaking slightly slurred. Dylan held her in his arms. I looked at Harris and smiled at the sight of him.
Being separated from him for so many months was unbearable.
I was surprised when he showed up four days ago in the middle of the night to whisk me away, in his words.
Of course, being whisked away according to Harris would mean a half-day ferry to House Halvorsen and joining the largest witch rebellion in history.
The heavy breathing of Dylan distracted me from Harris, and I glanced back to Percy.
She was injured. I couldn’t tell how badly, but she clearly couldn’t walk, not if she was allowing Dylan to carry her.
Percy would never otherwise. Not just because she was dangerously stubborn, but because she knows that Selene would probably kill him.
We needed to get her back to the bus. I hurried ahead of Dylan to Harris’ side.
“How far are we from the safehouse?” I asked him quietly, paranoid of eavesdropping. Even out here, in the middle of the night on the side of a mountain, with only the four of us for at least a mile, I couldn’t be sure who was listening in. Not now. Everything was changing.
I looked back at Percy and Dylan.
Six days ago, I wasn’t so paranoid. But five days ago, Percy did the impossible. And three days ago, I officially abandoned my coven to join the witching division of The New Foundation.
And yesterday I chopped all my hair off.
A lot can happen in less than a week.
“Not far, about ninety minutes,” Dylan answered.
“And what happened to her?” I asked.
“Her?” Percy asked indignantly, lifting her head from Dylan’s shoulder to look at me disapprovingly. “This big idiot happened to me,” she continued.
I smiled apologetically.
“We rescued her from the maze,” Dylan answered, shaking his head as if he was amused by Percy, like she was some small child that didn’t understand what was happening.
“We have different definitions of rescued,” Percy continued, “I wouldn’t describe blowing someone up and then kidnapping them for a SECOND time, as rescuing them.”
Percy was clearly angry. Even in her current state, she had enough rage against Dylan to hit his chest in admonishment.
“Hey,” Dylan complained at the attack, even though it seemed like he barely felt her frustrated slap to his chest. “You were trapped in the maze of Ardens, Percy, how were we meant to know that it wouldn’t kill you like it’s killed thousands of others?
Not to mention you were literally being chased down by True North rebels who want your head on a stick. I call that rescuing,” he defended.
“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want or need to be rescued?
” she fired back, “In fact, why don’t you leave me right here?
There are no True North soldiers or rebels or whatever here now, is there?
You could still let me go,” her tone bled from anger to pleading and I felt a wave of guilt wash over me.
Selene and Percy were soul-matched. Such a bond was legendary in its rarity.
I didn’t know what the impact of separating the two would be for Percy.
Could she even survive if permanently removed from her Princess?
What made it worse was that I couldn’t say anything, bound by a blood oath, and I wasn’t about to die for Selene.
I could only hope that Witching Command would recognise the bond in Percy, and could do something to free her.
Dylan and I didn’t agree on much, but we did agree, even if we had different knowledge as to the cause of Percy’s condition, that she was bound to Selene, and something had to be done about it.
The two were so different.
Selene was ruthless. A new Borealis Queen of Death in the making.
Like her ancestor, the vampire that started the Borealis coven.
The Queen of Death’s name wasn’t remembered now, no traces of her given birth name in any records.
Some in the witching community believe she had all evidence of her origins destroyed.
Her former name wiped from records, preferring her deadly title.
Of course, there are other benefits to no one knowing your given name.
Names have power. So much of enchantment magic was tied to blood and bone and true names.
Selene reminded me of the legends of her ancestor.
Her callousness and sadism were already well known throughout the kingdom, and she was only a princess.
A title which held power but in practice wasn’t meant to mean actual power; there was meant to be a ruling monarch, the King, and his council and the Lords of the Houses and the Royal Conference all between her and power.
Even the King was ruled by checks and balances.
But those safeguards, those small defences against tyranny, were not something that Selene so much as pretended to concern herself with.
There was no other option but to end the Borealis monarchy, tear down the House system and build something new. The House system subjugated the people whose work made the kingdom.
Percy and her power would be vital in the coming war.
There hadn’t been a witch with such power, maybe for millennia, certainly not since we started to record history in the written word.
Only oral traditions, stories of inter-coven magic, and legends mentioned any witches with power comparable to that of Percy.
“Please, Ana,” she said, turning to me. “Don’t let him do this,” she begged me.
“I’m sorry, Percy. There really isn’t any other way. Ardens isn’t safe. I’m not sure anywhere is really safe. Not since, well, not since your new ability made itself known,” I told her.
“Ana, you’re my best friend. You know I’m safe with Selene.
She needs me now. How could you help them do this?
” she challenged me, and I looked away. How could I explain to her that this was all for her and the greater good of everyone?
She was in love with Selene. But she wouldn’t be; someone like Percy didn’t love someone like Selene, not when given a choice.
The soul-match had stolen that choice from her.
“There,” Harris said, and the bus headlights flashed once.
“You know this isn’t right. I can’t believe you’re ignoring me!” Percy hissed.
“I’m sorry,” I told her as we neared the bus, “Everything will make sense soon,” I promised.
“A whole lot is making sense right now,” she replied, and her tone felt almost threatening. I only hoped once we were back in House Halvorsen, everything would make sense, she’d understand why we had to separate her from Selene.
When we reached the bus — an old school minibus — Harris opened the door for Dylan.
Dylan stepped onto the bus and immediately handed Percy over to Idonea.
“Hi, Percy,” Idonea greeted before Dylan had even sat her down.
Percy grimaced as she was placed in the seat next to her. The lights were off in the bus, to avoid detection by any True North scouts, and it was dark, but I could hear the excitement from the seer’s voice.
I sat down beside Harris in the seat behind Percy.
“Where is everyone else?” Katrina asked from behind the wheel.
“Dead,” Percy answered, “like I thought you were. Didn’t you run away?” she continued, and it was disorientating to hear Percy speak with such malice.
It was clear the impact Selene had been having on her.
“The maze took them,” Dylan explained.
Percy laughed, “Did the maze kill Fredrick?” she asked, derisively, “No, he’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you, dragging us into gunfire and taking me here against my will!” she accused.
“This is war, Percy. You can’t avoid bullets in war,” Dylan replied defensively. “There was no other choice.”
“Is that what you’re going to tell their families?” she challenged.
“Every member of The New Foundation knows the risks when they join,” he replied.
Percy looked like she was about to reply when Idonea reached out and took hold of Percy’s leg.
Percy screamed and threw herself back against Dylan.
“What is wrong with you?” she cried out in pain.
“Your leg looks broken,” Idonea answered.
“And so, you grab me like that?” Percy yelled.
“If that’s everyone, let’s get a move on,” Katrina said, starting the engine.
“I just wanted to get a better look at your injuries,” Idonea defended.
The minibus began to move; the road was uneven and Percy immediately cried out, clutching at the thigh of her injured leg that rested across the seats.
“You should let me evaluate your injuries,” Idonea continued and reached out, taking hold of Percy’s injured leg by the ankle.
“Get off me! I don’t even know you!” Percy yelled.
“I don’t know anyone here!” she accused, turning to look at me between the seats.
Her words hurt.
“You know me,” I protested quietly.
“I thought I did,” she spat back angrily. “But a friend wouldn’t do what you’re doing. And you know fully what you’re doing,” she accused.
Dylan gave me a questioning look. I could see the distrust in his gaze.
He thought I was too close to Heidi and, by extension, to Selene; it didn’t matter that I couldn’t stand either woman.
I was a witch, and he clearly held some form of discrimination if he found it so difficult to believe that not all witches were allies.
“Percy, you must trust me. I’m here for you. I’m here to help you,” I pleaded with her.
She was injured, in pain, upset, disoriented, and taking it out on those around her. Was it a side effect of the soul match? Was this some type of defence mechanism of the bond? She wasn’t behaving much like my Percy.
“Trust you?” she repeated angrily before screaming in pain and turning back to confront Idonea, who had ripped the fabric of Percy’s leg trousers. The tearing of the material distracted all of us.
“What the actual fuck!” Percy roared. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
Idonea ignored her, inspecting Percy’s leg. I couldn’t see the damage to the limb as it was too dark without the lights, and I doubted Idonea could see either.
“Leave it alone, Idonea!” I warned.
“We need to see what’s wrong,” Idonea replied, before her face bounced off the headrest of her seat.
Everyone went quiet.
“What’s happening?” Katrina asked, trying to glance over her shoulder while driving on the narrow mountain road.
Percy had leaned forward and slapped Idonea.
“Fuck, Percy,” Dylan whispered beside her, a kind of awe in his voice.
Idonea held her abused cheek, and she glared at Percy.
“I’m only trying to help you,” she said angrily
“What happened?” Katrina asked again.
“Percy just bitch slapped Idonea,” Dylan answered, and I felt bile in my throat rise at the excitement in his voice.
“You’re disgusting,” I told him.
“What, my girls fighting is hot,” he replied.
“Girls?” Idonea and Percy asked in unison, equally angry, but I was sure it was for entirely different purposes.
“I am not your fucking girl, Dylan. I never will be. Even if I didn’t have Selene, I’d never touch you.
You’re disgusting. You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever known.
It’s because of you that this is happening in the first place!
You’re the reason I was abducted by Valen, you’re the reason everyone is dead!
You killed Fredrick!” she roared and slapped him too, harder than she had Idonea, but it didn’t land with the same impact.
Idonea cruelly gripped Percy’s injured leg in retaliation. Some misplaced loyalty to a man who was only using her.
“Leave him alone, you bitch,” she screamed.
“What the fuck, Idonea!” Dylan shouted as Percy cried out in pain.
I stood from my seat.
“Hey! No fighting back there, or I’ll turn us around!” Katrina laughed from behind the wheel.
Percy lunged awkwardly forward, hitting Idonea in the nose with the heel of her palm.
I felt it as Idonea’s nose began to bleed, blood trickling down to her lips. Percy didn’t stop with one strike; she hit Idonea again and again before Dylan gripped her arms and pulled Percy back against his chest.
“Let me go!” Percy screamed.
Idonea seemed dazed. Her nose gushed, her hands cupped under her nose as if trying to collect what was spilled.
I reached between the seats and grazed my fingers against Idonea’s face, allowing my magic to find the burst blood vessels and encourage them to clot to stop the bleeding.
I pulled my hand back in shock. Blood was life, but it was more than that: it was connection, belonging, history, family. It wasn’t something I was particularly skilled in; I required more training, but I knew enough to recognise familial connections.
Idonea looked at me with recognition.
“I hate you!” Percy cried, still struggling against Dylan.
“Percy, baby, you’ve got to stop,” Dylan pleaded, and it only enraged Percy to fight against him with more force.
“I’m sorry, Percy,” I told her as I placed my hand gently against her cheek and calmed her heart, taking a moment to examine if I could find any burst vessels, any bleeding to heal.
I hated myself for not checking her over sooner.
“Percy, I’m so sorry,” I whispered as she turned to glare at me, and I allowed my magic to flow and heal what I could before slowing her heart rate to the point that she passed out.
“It’s okay, she’ll forgive you,” Harris reassured me, his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side as I sat back down.
“Are the children behaving now?” Katrina asked.
“Yeah,” Dylan sighed.
Idonea didn’t say anything, but she still watched me.
She knew that I knew.
Percy and Idonea were family.