The balance of fates, p.15
The Balance of Fates, page 15
"Okay, well, cantus. Is there anything they do before or during these cantus that stands out to you?"
Lucia tries to think back through the years of watching and failing at being a witch. She shakes her head, letting out a frustrated breath. It’s different for everyone. Everyone has their own way of being a witch that’s unique to them. Like Gabrielle, she doesn’t even seem to have to try. It comes effortlessly, and she looks beautiful while doing it.
The other day Lucia failed miserably and hasn’t been able to complete the obstacle course at the Noxidome since, while Gabrielle completed it on her first try. It’s getting harder and harder to believe her sister shouldn’t be in her place. Why couldn’t she have been the firstborn?
"I don’t know how this is going to help me," Lucia cries. "I’ve done it all. My mother even got me a private tutor, because she thought it would help. Nothing worked. I’m broken, Hetan."
Hetan’s chuckle snaps Lucia’s angry eyes up at him. "What is so funny?" Lucia asks, annoyed, hands fisted on her hips. "This is serious, Hetan. I’m a witch who isn’t good at using their magisk. That’s, like, the entire reason for being a witch. A witch without magisk is… Well, they’re nothing."
Hetan shakes his head, mouth forming a straight line. "But that isn’t true, is it? Aren’t you in one of the most revered covens? Also, from what I know of witches, it’s hardly unusual. Especially amongst the men. Are they any less a witch?"
Lucia hesitates as she thinks over Hetan’s words. It’s true, there are many without magisk, even more without magisk natures, but not in one of the big four. Not a Dol’Auclair. Sure, Lucia can read minds now, but that means nothing if she can’t control it. And this situation with her mother, and the Triune, are just making everything worse. Lucia feels like she might explode!
Lucia looks up at Hetan, who is staring down at her, waiting for her answer. Her eyes roam over his skin, up to his kind face with the setting sun behind him. His hair is in a bun, the flyaway strands blowing in the wind. He’s so beautiful. And so kind. She doesn’t know what she would do without him here helping her.
Looking at Hetan is painful. As is training with him, being so near him when she knows she’s keeping such a big secret from him. One that would change everything between them. But… not just them. What her mother did breaks the Paxum ex Cinis. That’ll not only send her mother to death by the wolves’ hands, but given who her mother is, it could start a war between the witches and wolves.
She pictures the vampire Abhain chained down to the floor of the Dome, burning alive. She flinches in horror.
"Come on, Lucia, focus."
Lucia’s eyes snap back up to Hetan.
"Sorry—I, uh, no. No, it doesn’t make them any less a witch."
"Okay, now stop feeling sorry for yourself, and let’s practice."
Lucia nods, taking a deep breath of fresh air. "Cantus. A lot of witches say that an important part of it is feeling the words. If you’re trying to start a fire, you have to picture the warmth against your skin and see the colors—orange, red, yellow—flickering in front of your eyes. The smell of smoke. You have to ignite your senses."
"Good," Hetan says. "That’s similar to shifting: feeling the wolf, imagining it in your mind’s eye. Let’s start there."
They’ve been at this for an hour.
Lucia is dripping sweat, her cotton dress clinging to her curves. She feels like she’s going to overheat and pass out.
"Don’t give up, Lucia."
"I’m trying!" she shouts, hands raised in front of her, curved like she’s cupping something. She faces one of the smallest trees she could find, trying to convert the tree into water. It isn’t too difficult a technique, and she knows the steps, but somehow, she can’t do it.
"Oporaa—Igi I omi," she chants, trying to focus her energy on the tree. "Oporaa—Igi I omi… Igi I omi!"
Lucia groans, her hands dropping when Hetan’s land comfortingly on her shoulders.
"You know what, I think that’s enough for the day. You’re exhausted, and you’re obviously distracted by something."
Lucia shivers when a cool breeze rushes through the trees, cooling the sticky sweat on her body and suctioning her clothes to her skin. Her hair is currently pinned up under a headwrap, which matches her training outfit.
"It’s just… hard," Lucia says. "There’s so much pressure I think I might burst."
Lucia knows she shouldn’t be so hard on herself, but she can’t stop. Because everyone else will be—her mother, her grandmother, the covens. With her grandmother getting sicker, Lucia only has so much time to prove to her that she can do this. That she isn’t a disappointment. She’s held to a higher standard than most. She always has been. She isn’t just a disappointment to her family and her ancestors, but to all witches.
"How do you do it? How do you channel your… What is it? Your spirit changes."
Lucia has never actually seen a werewolf shift before. She just knows what she’s learned. Wolves undergo a shift in puberty where they gain the ability to harness the spirit of the wolf. Their body can shift from human form to that of a beast.
Hetan kicks a stone in his path. "It’s different for us. The shift a werewolf undergoes isn’t anything like the magisk that comes from your words or your hands. I was actually an early bloomer. Most homolupus get their first shift around age thirteen, sometimes as late as fifteen. Mine was right before my eleventh year. When my parents died, I became the rightful chief of the wolves."
"But you’re not in charge now, are you?" Lucia asks. If he had so much responsibility, how could he be here right now, at Eirini? His people would need him back home.
"No. I have many duties—to the Silver Fangs and all of the clans—but I was so young when I became heir it was decided my uncle would act as interim chief and sit as three of three on the Caput Trium until I was ready. He handles all of the higher duties and manages relations between clans. I’m still learning. I was meant to have more time to shadow him, but now, with the Triune, things are moving so quickly. If I win, I might have to take over the reins. Honestly, I’m still not sure if I’m ready. There is so much going on, so much stress and responsibility. Real-life issues that terrify me."
Lucia leans against a large oak. She looks up at the overreaching branches that shade them, and then back to Hetan. He’s changed a lot since they were kids. He’s tall with bronze skin and wide shoulders. There is power in his body, his muscled legs, and arms like those of an animal. His long hair is a silky dark brown that looks reddish when it catches the light. Lucia has never been more aware of how much he’s grown. How much the both of them have. They used to talk about climbing trees and racing with each other along the river. Now they’re becoming leaders.
"Can you show me?" Lucia asks, her voice soft. She doesn’t want to push and make him nervous, but she’s curious.
Hetan turns, his eyes burning into hers. They glow silver for just a second, and her breath catches. "I’m sorry if that’s a personal question. I don’t know if it’s something you can—"
Lucia blushes, turning quickly as Hetan begins to pull his clothes over his head. Her face is hot as she stares out at the trees, the sound of rustling clothes accompanying the swaying of leaves blowing in the wind. She can hear Hetan’s muscles move and shift, the sound of cracking making her wince. When she turns, the forest gone quiet and a brush of fur against her side, she is breathless at Hetan’s beauty.
Standing beside her is a large wolf. His head reaches her hip, and his fur is blinding, the pearlescent-white of freshly fallen snow.
"Dais Holum," she whispers in awe—Holy days.
Captivated by the beauty, Lucia reaches out to touch. She slowly brings her hand to his head, feeling the soft fur between her fingers. His wolf is a gorgeous creature, but also so powerful with rippling muscles and strapping hindlegs.
"Wow, Hetan. If only you could see yourself."
Lucia watches Hetan for a bit as he moves around. He begins loping through the woods, dodging between trees, and jumping over a small stream. Laughing, Lucia chases after him, trying to keep up. It’s different from when they were kids and Lucia was right on his heels. An obvious gap has risen between their abilities.
Hetan’s going slow for Lucia’s benefit. He even chortles when she slips, her foot dipping into the river and soaking the bottom of her dress. She’s glad to see he’s kept his playful spirit.
Lucia thought she lost this side of herself. The part that was carefree. But when she’s with Hetan it all rushes back.
Hetan nudges her with his big snout, preventing her from falling any farther into the water as he helps her back onto the shore.
"Thank you," she says, collapsing breathlessly onto the grass.
Hetan shifts back to a man and she hands him his clothes that she carried with her. He sits beside her with a large smile on his face.
"It’s more incredible than I imagined," Lucia says. Werewolves are truly far better than she’d been told. Even Hetan himself had never talked too much about being a wolf when they were kids. True, he hadn’t had his shift yet, but to be surrounded by such beauty, she would have shouted it from the rooftops.
"Does it hurt?" she asks, remembering the sound of the cracking of bones.
Hetan shakes his head. "No. It feels a bit odd at first. Uncomfortable. But you get used to it. It can even be quite an enjoyable sensation, like stretching or sneezing."
Lucia laughs, bunching grass between her fingers. She pictures a bunch of sneezing wolves doing downward dog.
"I don’t know why magisk is so hard for me. Trying to make something out of nothing or forming something in my mind. Something new. Gabrielle makes it seem so easy. She’s good at cantus. She can even do some without saying a word. She just pictures it in her mind."
Hetan hums. "When I shift, I don’t imagine becoming something different. I’m not a man and then a wolf, I’m both of them at the same time. It’s like emotions. People aren’t happy or sad, they are not angry and then calm. They’re all at once. Certain experiences can bring one to the forefront, but they’re all inside of us. The wolf is always inside of me. When I change, I just call the wolf to the forefront."
Lucia and Hetan watch the sun, nearly sunken below the horizon, bits of orange sunlight shining between the cluster of trees as the forest darkens. Hetan stands, holding his hand out to Lucia to help her up.
"Takke’," she whispers, brushing off her dress.
"Maybe," Hetan says as they head back toward the academy, "you shouldn’t think of your magisk as a thing separate from you. Think of it as a part of you."
Lucia ponders what Hetan said for a long time, distracted as she follows him through the forest. When she looks up at Hetan, he seems to be lost in thought as well. She asks, "You’re not upset with me, are you?"
Hetan looks down at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "Why would you think that?"
Lucia looks down at her feet as she walks, arms wrapping around her torso. "It’s just… you’ve been helping me so much with my magisk. But we’re competing too. Technically. I mean, I know we’re partners now and you’re helping me so you don’t fail too, but—"
"Lucia," Hetan says, stopping her. "I’m not upset with you. And I’m not just helping you because we’re partners. Yes, we’re both competing for the vessel of the Orbis Libra, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends. If you win, I would be happy for you. You would make a great leader."
"I know but—"
"Stop worrying. You don’t have to feel bad about wanting something. I know you have just as much pressure on you as I do. We have to do things, and sacrifice things, for our people all the time. But my friendship with you won’t be one of them."
Lucia smiles up at Hetan, letting out a breath. Things are so easy with him as if there was no time separating them. Her smile sours a bit as Hetan turns around. Staring at his back she wonders if he would be so kind and forgiving if he knew what she was keeping from him.
"Aah—"
Lucia jumps, hands gripping her skirt as she draws up short. Her heart thumps hard and fast in her chest, her mouth going dry as she tries to convince herself this isn’t real. She’s just imagining it.
"Is that a—a—"
Lucia turns to Hetan, gripping his arm tightly. His face is ashen, but his shoulders are back and he’s standing tall as he finds her hand. Lucia is rooted in place, eyes trained on the prone body facing down in the dirt, trying not to lose the contents of her stomach.
"Let’s go, tama," Hetan says gently, tugging her. Her feet move slowly; her eyes still on the body as she follows him. "Come, look at me."
Through tears gathering in Lucia’s eyes, she moves her gaze up to his. With her eyes glued on him, to the strong set of his jaw and confidence they walk slowly until the body is far behind. Lucia takes a deep breath once it’s out of sight, picking up speed. She’s like a puppet following the wolf blindly, but inside she panics.
A dead body. They just found a dead body.
Lucia’s head whips around, her heart battering her ribs and her hand sweating in Hetan’s. She wonders if the person was murdered, because If so, the culprit could still be in the woods.
"Gabrielle!" Lucia shouts as they break through the trees.
She spots her sister instantly; Gabrielle is walking through the field, a textbook cradled in her arms. She turns to Lucia with a confused look on her face but moves quickly toward them.
"Lucia?" she says sounding worried. "Hetan…"
Hetan thrusts Lucia’s hand toward Gabrielle. "Take her, please. Get her to the nurse if you must. Just stay out of the woods."
Hetan turns in the opposite direction, looking so brave and assured. Lucia thought she had seen how much he grew up, but she hadn’t truly. When they were kids, he was the more sensitive one. The smallest things would make him weep.
"The nurse? Lucia, what’s going on, are you hurt?" Gabrielle’s eyes are wide and nervous as she takes in Lucia’s blank stare. Lucia drowns out Gabrielle’s voice, replaying the sight of the lifeless body in her mind.
Lucia can’t sleep. For the last few nights, she has tossed and turned in bed worrying over the dead body she and Hetan found in the woods. They said the young man’s name was Orion, a wolf in lower two. There’s no news of how he died, whether it was foul play, though they’re trying to figure it out.
Ekrul updated the rules about coming and going from campus, and now students need permission from the teachers to go into town. Lucia’s mind goes to the hunters she ran into when she went to Domeg with Adelaide. She hasn’t thought of that for a while, almost like it was another lifetime, but she can still remember the large weapons they carried. They were hunting for Mystics. She worries whoever killed Orion might be the same ones that had been looking for her. They might have already entered Eirini. Somehow.
Her grandmother is getting sicker, and the barriers are weakening. If they don’t replace the Eidan soon, Mystics will have no protection from humans and the outside world.
Lucia feels guilty. There is nothing she can do about it. Adelaide told her she knew nothing of the men who attacked the bar, and Lucia can’t tell anyone in her coven without revealing she snuck out of the Ife ring. She’s alone with this, once more hoarding secrets she can tell no one.
And now the first trial is tomorrow, but Lucia is restless. Her mother is going to be there. She’s going to watch Lucia fail. Fail at the first trial.
Lucia groans, burrowing her head in her arms. It’s midnight, and she’s in the canteen, tucked away in a private booth. The lights are low and there are only a few other students here, most people either sleeping or off partying. Lucia never realized how much of that went on at Eirini.
"You can’t sleep either?"
Lucia stiffens at that voice. Adelaide.
"Don’t—leave," Adelaide says, sliding into the booth. Lucia slowly sits back down, swallowing as she watches the vampire sitting across from her. The lights are dim, the one above them flickering.
"What do you want?" Lucia asks, eyeing the plate the woman sets on the table. Some sort of orange pudding with a thin crust.
"Is this a sweet?" Lucia asks, eyes lighting. She tries to tamp down her excitement, but eagerness squirms in her belly. She doesn’t love desserts, but she does love sweet potatoes. It smells like a sweet potato.
"Yes. Do you like sweets?" Adelaide questions, folding her hands atop the table.
"Not really," Lucia says. But she grabs the plate with both hands to bring it closer. She takes the spoon Adelaide holds out to her and digs in. Her eyes close as she groans in delight. It’s a dessert but very light and savory. Salty-sweet.
"This is wonderful!"
Lucia’s hunger catches up with her, oblivious to Adelaide watching her curiously as she quickly eats the entire thing, just like she had in that room in Domeg. Lucia is getting flashbacks to that meeting, the warmth she had felt with the woman, just the two of them alone in an unfamiliar place. Before Lucia knew who she was and what she was after. She had known who Lucia was all along; it was all an act. This probably is too.
"It really is fascinating to watch you eat, Princess. Like you’re starving. You’re really deprived up there in the mountains, aren’t you?"
Lucia snorts. Is that a come-on?
"I’m not deprived of anything. I have everything I need, actually." She pushes away her plate, which she scraped clean. She waves her hand over it. "This is good, but I don’t need it. It’s a distraction."
"Mhm. But is that any way to live? Just because you don’t need to do something, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun. Haven’t you ever taken a risk, Princess?"
Lucia scoffs. "Why do people keep saying that? Of course I have. Just being here is a risk." Lucia looks the vampire up and down. She’s leaned back with her arm over the booth, a lazy, smug smile on her face and eyes knowing. Adelaide wears a red body suit today, like the color of her eyes, which glow in the low light. A chill passes over Lucia as the vampire watches her. Like she can feel the touch of that gaze.
"Why are you here?" Lucia asks. "To taunt me—to shake me before the competition?"
