Chapter 41
Max
The small, dank cabin smells like sage and dying roses. Dust collects into the air, irritating my nose as I sense magic from the center of the room.
There, sits a hunched figure in a stained chair. The rug under her is worn and the scurrying of rats in the corners gives me the chills.
Gods, I don’t want to be in here.
Yet, I know I have to do this. Gods’ Will is giving me a path and I need to see it through.
“Sit,” the old woman commands, pointing to the vacant spot on the floor.
Glancing at it, I fist my hands, nose wrinkling in disgust. “No thanks, I’ll stand.”
Her milky white eyes stare unflinchingly at me, stripping me to the bone.
It’s the look of someone who has seen many things and a disrespecting young woman like me is but a bump in her long life.
Panic laces across my chest as she smirks.
“It’s rude to ignore the host’s wishes.”
“It’s also rude to make someone sit on the floor.” A furry body runs behind the old crone and I shudder. “Or to sit near rodents.”
She laughs, wrinkles pulling tight over tanned skin. At one time, she looked to have loved the sun or rather, the sun loved her. Now, she is ashen, forgotten, living in a shack with no windows.
How long has she been in the Phoka village? Years, decades?
Her brittle blonde-white hair swings into those unnerving eyes, her face lightening with realization.
“Ah, so you’ve got some spark. Your mother did too.”
Something hard hits my gut at the casual mentioning of my mother. A woman who even now, I can’t recall.
The attack at ten robbed me of everything—the sound of her voice, the feel of her touch. I only have some wisps of imagination, cooked up in the darkest nights of my solitude when I needed love and care.
“You knew my mother?” My heart twists as my voice cracks.
“I did.” She nods, leaning back into the chair. “Came to me about twenty-five years ago. Asking questions about her fate.”
“Seems she and I were the same in that way,” I mutter, taking the spot of the rug still fully intact. Focusing on the woman in front of me, I ignore the sensation of tiny feet running over my legs. “What did you tell her?”
I want to ask about her—what she looked like, if we shared the same blue eyes, if she also had the three freckles on her back shoulder, if she were also allergic to dandelions. But I don’t. That’s not why I’m here.
“What the gods commanded.” A knobby finger rises to point at me. “She had a role to play in this world. Much like you.”
“And what was her role?”
She smiles secretively. “To be your mother.”
“Me?” My fingers shake, my magic rolling around in my veins. It doesn’t trust this woman. “Her destiny was to be my mother?”
Why would the Gods care if I were to be born?
“Oh lovie,” she coos, cackling like the Mad Witch she’s called. “You’ve been foretold to arrive for generations. ‘For she who is born of life and death, will wield them both.’ Quite poetic, eh?”
Foretold? My body shivers, my magic thrashing for release.
Rubbing my hands over my crossed knees, I ignore the pounding in my ears. “That could mean anything. Anyone. How does that relate to me?”
The Mad Witch leans back further, face tilting toward the roof, as if searching for answers. “Do you know how I got my gift, blood summoner?”
At the topic change, I sigh, annoyed. “No, I don’t.”
I don’t care how she got these abilities. Taylay developed his years after birth and I can only assume I did too.
But I fear, if I don’t play her game, she won’t answer my questions.
“Sola, asked me to gaze upon her.” Her words are wistful, dreamy. “She spoke to me. Needed to see my face. Said I was the most beautiful Woodland Fae she had ever seen. So, I looked into the sun.”
White eyes catch mine and there in her white hair, a pointed ear. “She took my sight and in return allowed me to see.”
I remain silent. Woodland Fae weren’t common pass the Eternal Night Forest; mostly because they stayed on the other side, content to ignore Human and Witches.
It isn’t surprising to find one hidden here.
But for Sola to bless her? Odd.
Sola is the Goddess of the sun and weather. Fickle, with a mean streak that made all who worship her uneasy, she could either bless you or drown you in a flood. Glancing to the ceiling as if she can see me, I bite my lip.
“She showed me you would be born decades ago.”
Although I’m not fond of Sola, I’m curious. “Why me?” Why my mother?
“Oh, poor, little lovie,” she coos. “You don’t remember your village, do you?”
Wincing, as if struck, I shake my head. The weight of not remembering my home settles like lead on my shoulders.
“No. I don’t remember it.”
She nods sagely. “I figured as much.” Grabbing my hands, she holds them within her paper thin fingers. “Your mother was a High Priestess of Enyo, the Goddess of Life.”
The Goddess of Life, Enyo, was a powerful deity. One that had fallen from our mouths after the Great War of Neevea. Who would worship a Goddess of Life when only death surrounded us?
“But she was also the Patroness of Blood Summoners.” She smiles wickedly. “You’re the last of your kind.”
Something heavy sits on my chest, body physically deflating as her words.
The last of my kind. The last blood summoner?
It can’t be true. Nessa would have known, she would have told me.
“I was never told that. Nessa said—”
The Mad Witch grunts, releasing me. “Nessa,” she hisses her name like a curse. “That Witch was so afraid of the Blut Coven. The only ones who had blood magic. She feared them. Just like she feared you.”
Licking my dry lips, my head spins. “But magic doesn’t exist. No one has it.”
She smiles wide. “Yes and no.” Looking to the side, her grin cracks. “Your village was spared.”
Spared? “I don’t understand—”
Weathered hands hold up my chin. “You, lovie, are meant to change the world. The problem is, I can’t see which way you’ll go. Will you destroy it, or will you fix it? That is the crossroads you find yourself in. That is what you must decide.”
My stomach rolls, bile rising up my throat.
Nessa knew what I was. She taught me to fear my magic, to hide away. She said the only way I would be safe—that everyone would be safe—would be to fear what I could do.
But she knew. She knew there were others like me. That we had lived with our magic, had embraced it.
All this time, she made me believe I was the monster under children’s bed when really, her fear turned her into one.
Betrayal stings my heavy heart as I blink back tears. I loved Nessa like another mother. I love Tay and Nafre like siblings.
Did they know about my village, about my people? Did they choose to let the Coven taunt me, bully me because they were afraid?
Did they know of my prophecy?
“My magic.” I lick my bottom lip, wiping my eyes. “Can it be controlled?”
The Mad Witch looks to the roof again. “Lovie, your magic is a blessing from the gods. You were born to wield a gift from Enyo. And Seti has blessed you with a Hadeon. Your magic responds to you, whether you want it to or not.” My eyebrows rise, surprised she could see all this.
“Your magic was once not so rare. It was coveted, loved in your Coven. But it was also sought out by those who would wish to use it. Wicked beings who need you to control the world.”
I swallow thickly. As much as Nessa lied to me, she was right about that.
I’m dangerous. So much so that I bring trouble wherever I go.
“Are there people who are looking for me now?”
She tilts her head as if listening to a silent voice. “Yes.”
“Will they harm me?”
She sighs deeply. “Oh lovie, of course, they will. When people want power, there are those who will suffer. It’s up to you to decide who shall suffer for their wickedness.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I ask my final worry. “What about the heir to the Shadowlands? Can he be trusted?”
I don’t want to hear what she’ll say. I don’t think I can take another betrayal.
Nessa cared for me when I was injured, taught me along with her children. How could she do all that while hating me—fearing me?
Enduring those taunts and sneers, I did so for her. Because I thought that was what I deserved. Now, to know it wasn’t my fault, my heart feels as if it’s being crushed under a boot, ground into dust.
I don’t know what I’ll do if Kaden is another person who I’ve misplaced my trust in. It’ll break what little bit of my heart is left.
“No one can be fully trusted, lovie,” she mumbles, looking to the side, as if gazing out a window. “But it’s hard not to feel a connection with one’s Heartbond.”
All thoughts flee my mind.
My chest expands and falls rapidly, breaths short and I realize I can’t get enough air.
“Heartbond?”
White eyes snap back to me, and she smiles cruelly.
“Surely you knew?” When I stay silent, puffs of air rushing from my lips, she laughs.
“You didn’t know. You think that connection is normal?
He’s a Dark Fae, a cursed prince, someone who drinks the very essence you were born to wield.
That pull you feel? That rightfulness.” She scoffs, annoyed, tapping her chest. “No, that’s a Heartbond.
He’s your other half, lovie. But what you do with that is up to you. ”
“What I do with it,” I repeat, focusing on steadying my heart. There’s not enough air in this tiny room. “You mean I can reject it?”
“Of course.” She shrugs, bored. “But I would be careful. Fae, especially those in the Shadowlands, have a way of getting what they want. And they always want their other half.”
“Be wary of a Fae’s words,” she threatens, seeming in another trance. “Their words are what you should fear most.”
Swallowing, I stand, fingers twitching as my magic swells within me. It’s responding to my silent plea for escape.
I can see it now, how my magic reacts. It’s not something I can’t control, but can be wielded. It’s protective, rising with every threat to keep me safe.
I don’t look back at the seer as I stumble from her home. I don’t know what to do next, but I need to run.