14. Cori
Cori
T he pillow was too soft. It deflated under her head like a marshmallow. Cori stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling of her bedroom for what seemed like hours, in limbo between thoughts and dreams as she relived the events of the past two days. She wholeheartedly blamed her substandard pillow for her insomnia but replaying dinner at the farmhouse over in her mind wasn’t helping, either.
The Huxleys had welcomed her into their quaint little farmhouse. She hadn’t felt like she was a part of a family for so many years, and dragging these unwilling people into the occupational hazards of her existence made her head hurt.
Pulling Adrian into the danger that loomed over her pierced through her like a needle laced with guilt.
In the morning she would play it cool. She would accompany the Huxley brothers down to the dock and throw that frayed extension cord into the trash before either of them noticed. The idea of Adrian getting hurt overshadowed any doubt she had in getting involved.
She couldn’t get him out of her head, and she was furious with herself. The clock next to the bed flipped to midnight. One hundred days .
This was not a time to befriend an Elemental witch, even if she had dreamed about him for her entire life. Even if he was an infuriatingly gorgeous man who had saved her from being washed away in the ocean. She tried closing her eyes, but all she could see was the curve of his mouth tipping up in that playful smile.
“Mama, did Papa ever dream about you before you met?” She was sitting on the cedar chest at the foot of her bed as her mother braided her hair, like she did every night. Her mother’s fingers stilled, tangled in the strands.
“I don’t know. I never asked him,” she said. Her voice was calm, but a bitter sorrow wafted from her aura.
“I dream about people I don’t know every day,” she said, tipping up her shoulder.
“Hmm, we can call Nonna tomorrow and ask her about it.”
“You were fated to Papa.” Cori didn’t like to pry, but her childhood brain was brimming with so many questions. “Enzo told me.”
Her mother didn’t answer right away. “Yes, we were fated.” She stilled. “—are fated.”
Cordelia’s throat stung with her mother’s grief, and she immediately regretted bringing it up. “Maybe you can meet someone else and fall in love.” She had seen it happen in the movies and on TV all the time.
Astrid puffed out a breath, her fingers moving methodically through the ends of her daughter’s hair. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”
“Sure, it does,” Cordelia reassured her, making her voice soft the same way her mother did for her when she was sad or unsure.
Astrid squeezed her daughter’s shoulder before she replied, “When you’re bonded by fate through magic, you can’t love anyone except the person you’re bonded to.”
Cordelia shook her head. “But Papa’s dead. How can you be bonded to him?”
“The magic that bonds you doesn’t go away when one of you moves into the spirit realm.” Her mother wrapped an elastic around the end of her long braid. “Your magic is intertwined when you bond with someone you’re fated to. I used to be able to feel what he felt, and one day when I move into the spirit realm, I’ll feel him again.”
“You felt his emotions? Like I feel auras?” Cordelia’s head was spinning.
“Almost. When your father took his first flying lesson, I was pregnant with your brother. I was planting bulbs in the garden that morning. Suddenly I felt like my body was floating off the ground.”
Cordelia’s eyes widened. “You flew, Mama?”
“No, but I marked the time. When he got home, I asked him what time he started his lesson. It was the same. Fated witches can feel emotions and surges in their partner’s magic through their bond. That bond is unbreakable. It’s an ancient magic that we don’t have control over.”
She swung around in her seat and faced her mother, looking her in the eye, her forehead scrunched in thought. “But he’s gone, so you can never love again?”
“No. But it was worth it,” she replied. All the sorrow was gone, replaced with the crispness of certainty. “It was out of my control from the beginning, and as soon as we fell in love, it completed the bond.”
Cordelia wrinkled her nose. “What if I’m fated to someone who smells bad.”
Her mother’s aura lightened, her laugher breaking through the wisps of sorrow wafting around her. “Not everyone has a fated partner, and the Giver won’t bind you by fate to someone you won't like. You need to fall in love to complete the bond.” She tossed her daughter a playful wink. “Besides, even a smelly person will smell good to someone who loves them.”
Cordelia had written a list of questions for her grandmother, and the following morning, her fingers danced over the complex trail of numbers on the kitchen phone that lead to her Nonna.
“Through us, the Mother voices us as a harbinger of important news. She will never let you know something you aren’t supposed to know, and she will never give you knowledge you are too weak to handle. Every day you must pray to the Mother, the Giver, and the Other, and they will give you the knowledge to guide your Eye, Cordelia.”
“What about my dreams, Nonna?”
“We only dream about what we’re supposed to know, Stellina.”
When she was released from the grip of her vision and her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, she unleashed an array of expletives into the darkness as she punched her pathetic excuse for a pillow.
She was angry with herself—she was angry with her Eye—for reminding her of this conversation with her mother. The blinking extension of her magic flared in defiance before settling into her chest in retreat of her anger.
She twirled the charm bracelet around her wrist as she finally drifted to sleep, her past and her future tangled within her mind, leading to dreams that were both reminiscent and diametrically uncertain.
She awoke on her own with the first rays of dawn. Although she had set her phone alarm, she had stirred from sleep with an innate desire to gaze into the sky before the sun washed out the stars with light.
She pulled on her frayed jeans, layering her favorite Yoda T-shirt and a Yale hoodie under her fleece jacket. She tamed the thick strands of her hair into a braid, taking her coffee out to the back garden. The lights were still out at Anne and Geoff’s house.
Something nudged her leg in the darkness.
“Good morning, Turtle.” She softly petted the calico head of her new roommate. “I’m sorry, friend. I don’t know where Anne stores the Fancy Feast.”
Turtle mewled in offense, stalking off toward the main house .
Cori faced the west at the last depths of the night sky, soaking in the light from the constellations. Like always, they seemed to feed her, energizing her spirit. She had shrouded herself from them for so long, it felt good to bask in their light again, like reconnecting with old friends.
It felt right, despite the voice in her head that told her to go back to bed and pull the blankets over her head.
The whir of an engine broke the silence, as a pickup truck turned into the drive. The truck slowed to a stop in front of the cottage as Seth rolled down the window.
“Good morning!” Seth greeted her with unnatural enthusiasm for this time of day. Adrian, bleary-eyed in the passenger seat, looked less well rested. His coffee mug was balanced on his lap, head resting on the seat back.
“You seem chipper for someone who sustained a concussion yesterday,” she greeted as she climbed into the back seat. “Thanks again for the ride to the marina.”
“Concussion or no, some people are morning people.” He smiled ruggedly at her. “Some people are not.” Adrian rolled his eyes at him and took another sip of his coffee. “I got a solid seven hours of sleep, woke up feeling like a million, and snuck in a quick morning jog, all before my brother poured his coffee.”
“I was hoping the concussion would make your mouth run less,” Adrian countered.
“Not a chance,” Seth said cheerfully. “I won’t be taken down by a head injury, young Adrian.”
“Young Adrian,” he scoffed. “Please. I’m thirteen months younger than you, Seth.”
“Thirteen months is enough, young man.” Seth was enjoying himself. Cori could tell that he was playing off his audience.
“Think of all the things that could happen in thirteenth months,” Cori reasoned.
“Exactly. I knew I liked you, Cori. Thirteen months is an eternity. The Constitution was written in a mere three months, you know.” Seth was practically giddy with early morning zeal, the radiance of his aura bouncing off the steering wheel, extroverted and energetic. From the passenger seat, she sensed nothing but annoyance and reluctance.
They pulled into the center of town, stopping at the one traffic light in Farley. There were several other trucks at the marina, no doubt getting an early start and an extra day for the catch as lobster season was slowing. At this time of the summer, most of the lobsters would have migrated farther offshore for the onset of the winter months, growing into their hard shells.
Cori had heard that the summer months had been low yield this year, and many local crews were bracing for extended offshore time this autumn and winter. She noticed Adrian’s brow furrow in the rearview mirror as he scanned the parked trucks.
“Do you ever fish on weekends?” she asked.
“Depends,” Adrian responded, the muscle in his jaw ticked with tension as he surveyed the parked cars. “The law has restricted times. You can’t pull traps on Sundays, starting at four o’clock Saturday afternoon until one hour before dawn on Monday morning. Anyone here now must be working on the coast.”
“Dad and I were out for a brief time yesterday morning before the storm,” Seth explained. “We were rushing back when the storm came in, and so was Auggie—the wrinkled bastard.” He rubbed the back of his head with a scowl.
“Do you think the boat is already docked and ready for repair?” Dread washed over Cori.
How much guilt would Seth carry if someone became injured on account of his foolishness? It was nothing compared to the guilt she would feel if she didn’t stop it from happening. She cursed her Eye for burdening her with this information, but one glance at Adrian made her simultaneously thank the Mother.
Despite Seth’s teasing demeanor, she could tell his heart was in the right place. She sensed a desperation from him to right a wrong. Seth may be brash and loud, but at his heart, she could tell he was righteous and loyal to the core.
Seth slung a heavy bag of tools over his shoulder. “I’ll happily show you the enormous dent my head made in Auggie’s boat. He should be waiting down here, no doubt tapping his foot and staring at his watch. Even though we’re ten minutes early.” He started down the wooden steps toward the dock as Cori glanced back at the truck.
Adrian scanned her face and crossed his arms. “Maybe you can help us replace the planks.”