A Familiar Magic, page 20
The outdoor amphitheater was a far cry from the ornate palace where this usually private ceremony took place, but they tried, I guess. Thick, gauzy ribbons stretched across the half open roof, creating shade that danced and moved with the evening breeze. It didn’t help with the humidity, though. With this many people squeezed into the crumbling stone walls, the moist air circled around and around like crumbs stuck in a blender.
As Bast led us to the lower rows, my gaze caught on the lighting. Small flames flickered in iron lanterns and bowls, adding contrast to the shadowed alcoves that housed the more esteemed guests: Council members, shop owners, and their families. I couldn’t see their faces and the anonymity added to the mysterious feel of it all. The sun worked its way down, dragging us ever closer to the start of the ceremony. Its position, combined with the lanterns, created a warm ambiance that appeared more welcoming than the nature of the event would call for. But that was the plan, wasn’t it?
Bring them in with warmth and laughter to hide the darker nature of the evening. I mean, people were going to be enlisted into breeding servitude tonight, essentially. Bast squeezed us in amongst the front two rows, the last of our class to arrive to our reserved section. We were given prime viewing to what would be our future next year. There went my plan of hiding in the back. My classmates vibrated with expectation, but I wanted to hurl. Those graduating this year stood on the ground floor, dressed in white to better stand out against the growing shadows and earth tones of the arena.
Two, uneven parallel rows of excited victims. There was no stage or platform to mark the Royal Family—one wasn’t needed. They would’ve been recognizable even if I hadn’t seen their faces almost every day of my life. Their matching dark hair and chiseled jaws were a dead giveaway. Auden’s eyes glowed from within thanks to the nearby lanterns on either side of him. He and Asiel both flanked their father. Asher would’ve been up there too. The thought of him involved in this sham should twist me up inside, but at least it would mean he was alive and able to stand up to his father and older brother. Because make no mistake, Asher wouldn’t have gone along with this crap. And as I watched Auden stand behind his father with pride, I fought to keep my eyes dry.
I fought the voice in the back of my mind that said he should recognize this as wrong. That he should be standing beside me in protest. Instead, he stood in front of my people, close enough to touch and yet so distant to the truth. I’m sure the lack of usual ceremony—crowns, pomp and fanfare, and the like—was again done intentionally to formulate a connection between the royals and the new graduates. A statement that said we were all the same and no matter the outcome of the Choosing, we were all doing our part to further the future of our community. It was well planned bullshit, and the crowd ate it up. The graduates stood tall and proud before their king and princes, preening under their attention. Couldn’t they tell what was happening? Couldn’t anyone? The division of our people was so obvious. The first row was all witches for crying out loud! With the familiars standing several steps behind, ready to be picked like ripe fruit.
This was nothing like what it used to be. As a child, Asher and I would hide in the palace and watch the ceremonies as new pairs were initiated. It was a private affair between the royals, Council, and the immediate families of the bonded pair. This was a joke in comparison.
“It’s disgusting,” I mumbled. Bast made a face but didn’t respond. He glanced at someone behind me, but quickly looked away. The ceremony was about to start.
“My people!” The king’s timbre easily carried across the natural acoustics of the amphitheater. “The time has come once again to celebrate the addition in our ranks. To welcome our brothers and sisters in arms as they vow to uphold our sacred duty of protection against the evil preying on our world.” The candidates stood even taller if possible and beamed at the recognition. “Tonight, some of you will form a lifelong bond, one filled with honor, tradition, and great sacrifice. Others among you will fill a different role, but one no less honorable.”
“Did he intentionally leave out the sacrifice part that time?” I whispered, not so quietly.
“Shh!” The reprimand came from somewhere to my right, but the offender didn’t meet my eye. They all stared ahead, fixed on whatever came next.
At least three familiars wouldn’t be paired tonight. That much was obvious by the uneven numbers of the class. Bast told me there was still a chance for the unchosen to be paired with someone older or out on assignment; someone not graduating this year. Familiars in repopulation had one year to find a suitable mate and settle in. Females could be chosen by a witch up until they conceived, then their time was truly up. While males could be chosen at any time until death or age made them unfit for duty. Regardless of whether or not they fathered any children. Only Asiel would have come up with something so sexist.
There were more female shifters in this class than males. One didn’t have to be a genius to work out what those numbers meant. More than one female would be trapped tonight. I missed the last of the king’s speech, but I wasn’t upset about it. Whatever he said probably would have pissed me off even more. It blew my mind how blind my people were. Or maybe willful ignorance was easier than living with the knowledge that your worth was measured so low by your king and community. The growing division of our peoples sat like a heavy stone upon my chest.
The king waved a hand and the two rows faced one another. The class ranking—another ridiculous development— was announced this morning, so the graduates most likely knew their fates before the sun reached its afternoon peak. In the back row of familiars, toward the middle, stood a petite brunette. Her chin was tucked close to her chest and her shoulders trembled. As each witch stepped forward to claim their partner, her shoulders jerked. Like she was being stabbed in the gut each time a name was called that wasn’t hers. There were three familiars left: that young girl and two others. The brunette openly cried while the others remained still, their eyes glistening in the torch light.
“How is anyone okay with this?” I growled, the blubbering girl’s tears getting to me more with each passing moment.
“It’s just the way it is now, Kaya,” Bast whispered harshly, his eyes scanning around us.
I glanced to the side, and this time people met my eye. Hostility and disgust were clear on their faces.
“Oh, come on!” I flung a hand out at the three remaining shifters. “You can’t tell me those girls are excited about their futures. I don’t know why everyone’s going along like this is the best night of the year.”
More eyes landed on our row as my voice rose. Bast’s hand was a painful vice around my arm, but I shook him off.
“Kaya—”
“No, this is unacceptable, Bast. How can we agree to being treated like second class citizens? Like we’re somehow worth less than our witch counterparts?”
“You better put a muzzle on your bitch, demon boy.” Lincoln stood from his seat, easily towering over the rest of us as his lips curled into a snarl.
The murmurs of the audience faded as I turned to face the self-important shifter. “You know it shouldn’t be like this, Lincoln. It was once an honor to be chosen by one of us, to create a bond stronger than any other in our world.” I gestured at the poor brunette. The girl who was now looking right at me, along with a majority of the crowd on this side of the arena. I swallowed past a growing sense of unease and pushed on. “Tell me, does she look honored to you?”
Bast crowded my back and I couldn’t shake his grip this time. He pulled, dragging me back through the rows as I kept my eyes locked with Lincoln’s.
“I know you can kick my ass six ways from Sunday,” Bast’s voice was strong, but terrified as he barked in my ear. “So, I hope you recognize my bravery when I say; Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
My head whipped around in shock. I thought Bast supported my resentment of the Choosing.
“Run.” With a final yank, he pulled us through the last rows and toward the exit. I tried to turn and see who watched us leave, but Bast gripped my shoulder with a firm claw. His nails made shallow marks against my skin and his lack of control told me all I needed to know about how much trouble I was in.
“Fuck,” I cursed, increasing our pace.
“Yeah.” He agreed, steering me further into the night. “Fuck.”
The darkness of the night enveloped us as soon as we left the glow of the torch lights. Fireflies sparked here and there, lighting up in an unheard melody. It was cooler now, especially away from the masses. Goosebumps grew along my arms as an evening breeze wicked the sweat from the back of my neck. I wished I had a hair tie, but I’d only thought of covering my bandage this morning, not about how humid it would be or that I’d be running through the thick air like another horde of demons was on my ass. Bast didn’t look down as he tugged me along the uneven path, expertly dodging rocks and tangled vines and weeds.
“You need to go straight to your dorm and stay in for the rest of the night,” he ordered, not even out of breath despite the steady pace he kept. “Hopefully the heavy celebrations tonight will make their memories muddy by tomorrow morning and no one will say anything.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I argued, but even I could admit I sounded like a petulant child. “I only said what I was feeling. There’s no crime against that.”
We came to a stop at the fork in the path. Both dormitories were visible from here and Bast pointed at mine with a stern frown. “You’re the one who said you were on probation. Asiel is looking for any reason to show you’re not trying hard enough to fit in. Go. Before the crowds return.”
We left the sounds of celebration behind us and bolted to the dorms.
chapter nineteen
Most of the community partied it up at the amphitheater or at private residences deeper in the settlement. A few returned to the dorms, but I didn’t think anyone saw me as I snuck out the side entrance. My beautiful purple dress was a ball under my bed and the oversized hoodie and leggings I now sported did a better job at protecting me from the mosquitos, even if it now felt hotter than the Devil’s living room. The Ruling Island was surrounded by water and had a near constant breeze, so I wouldn’t suffer for long. If I could get my feet to move, that is. I stood on one end of the bridge while the black water gently rolled on either side and tried to gather enough courage to cross. Dinner with my father couldn’t be avoided, no matter how much Bast wanted me to stay inside tonight. I had a feeling I knew exactly how this dinner was going to go. Terribly. One hundred percent would bet my first-born child that tonight was going to be the rainbow sprinkles on top of an already shitty fucking night.
I ran across the old wooden planks without taking my eyes off the opposite bank. I didn’t look at the beauty of the swamp or at the lit plantation homes that were my destination. I focused on ripping off the band aid and just getting my ass across to the other side. Panting, I gave myself a moment to gather my courage, and then started the small trek to my father’s house. Easily the second largest home on the island, second only to—you guessed it—the palace, the old house was beautiful. There was no denying it. Painted a bright white and highlighted by the near full moon, the only color on the home was the red shutters and any vegetation that managed to take root along the walls and pillars. It was built in the Greek Revival style, all boxy shaped and symmetrical windows. The lights within glowed with warmth, offering a sense of safety and shelter against the wet and grimy world currently trying to swallow my Chucks. It was a good lie. But I knew the second I walked through those doors; I would feel nothing but cold. The last kernel of warmth left that house when my mother did.
I let myself in through the front door, not needing a key since my father never locked it. Who would he need to keep out? Demons didn’t need a door and no one in the community was stupid enough to be here uninvited. The entrance was just as grand and empty as I remembered. The tall ceilings and ornate chandelier might be impressive to some, but I’d grown up amongst the luxury and honestly didn’t care for it. I preferred the small one-bedroom apartment Sensei maintained above the dojo. And the little shoebox of a room he made for me in one of the storage rooms downstairs. Those images felt like home. Not the plush, velvet carpet that led up the grand staircase. Not the textured wallpaper that ran from crown molding back to said plush carpet. The wooden accents from the furniture and railings would be more of a comfort, if they didn’t shine so bright under the glaring light of yet another opulent chandelier.
There were five heavy, oak doors in this wing of the house and mine was directly at the end of the hall, sealed shut and probably unopened since I was last here. On the other side, was a time portal. A purple and black comforter sat neatly tucked around my childhood bed. Random posters littered the walls and clothes still spilled out of half-closed drawers. It was like walking back in time. A thick ball of emotions clogged my throat, making it hard to breath without releasing a torrential rain of tears. My gaze ghosted over the back wall by the closet before I could stop it. Photos of all types—polaroid, candid, black and white— lined the wall in neat rows from floor to ceiling. Pictures of summers spent by the pool and afternoons hanging upside down from low tree limbs. Asher smiled so big in each one, safe with the false knowledge every kid carried with them; that nothing bad could happen to you. Invincible. That’s what the pictures showed. A lie. I backed out of the room before I lost it completely and ran down the stairs to the dining room. This never-ending night had to have a stop button. But I couldn’t hit it until after dinner.
My father already sat at the head of the table, picking at his food with immaculate manners. The gold in his hair shone like a crown from the candelabra in the center of the table and he looked far more at ease tonight than the last time I saw him. A place setting waited for me at the other end, six chairs on each side between him and me. I didn’t think it was enough. I gingerly sat on the plump cushion and a servant moved forward to push in my chair. I hadn’t noticed them standing along the back wall, but three others waited attentively, melting into the wallpaper like extra decoration. Who needed four servants to eat a basic dinner of…I glanced down; it looked like pot roast?
“I’m going to assume you’ve forgotten the dress code for dinner in your time away.” My father’s slender hands daintily cut the roast and his eyes didn’t look up longer than the second it took to take in my appearance.
“I didn’t forget,” I said, scooting my chair in even further. The legs scraped against the hardwood, and I made a show of settling in. My father’s pursed lips were the only outward sign that I’d annoyed him.
We ate in silence. Tension was an extra being at the dinner table, but not one that anyone acknowledged. The oppressive weight of my father’s disappointment was enough to make me nauseous, but I continued eating and the clanking of our utensils against the fine china was our only conversation. The shriek of a knife cutting through roast to the bottom of the plate was my father’s passive way of saying, “you’ve aggravated me tonight, but I’m too superior to say it and let you know it bothers me.” The little scrapes of my fork as I tried to scoop the last of the potatoes was my response. “I know. And I don’t care.” Back and forth we went, until the servants cleared our plates, and one brought my father his nightly glass of brandy. I leaned against an armrest; my gaze locked on him as I waited for his hidden agenda. He didn’t invite me here because his heart was overwhelmed with joy at the opportunity to connect with his missing daughter of four years. There weren’t tears in his eyes because he missed me. There wasn’t a smile on his face, his arms weren’t wide open with love, and I knew nothing he said tonight would be what one would expect of a father in this situation—having a daughter returned home.
He didn’t want to get to know me, to catch up on who I was now or what I’d been doing in my time away. He had reasons to call this dinner, and I bet my tight little ass it was about his image. It was one thing if his daughter died alongside the youngest prince in an unprecedented demon attack. But it was another thing entirely to know that she was alive, that she’d run away and was forced back like she didn’t understand the utter privilege of being the offspring of the strongest familiar on the island. To top it off, she didn’t quietly fade into the background and didn’t try to ease the ripples her return might cause. No. She made a giant cannon ball when she demanded to be trained and to graduate with the rest of her class. Now she was a big ole’ question mark. Would she embarrass him and be the lowest rank next year? Would she even rank? I saw the questions blistering behind his level observation, like magma simmering beneath the surface of a well composed volcano.
“You’re to have a monthly allowance for personal necessities and are welcome to anything of want in your room upstairs for your dorm. Since you are so behind on your training, I think it best you stay on campus during breaks and weekends to better accommodate your extra classes. See to it you get what you need for the extended stay.” He brought his arm down to rest along the table, the glass of brandy latent in his hand.
He awaited my response, poised like this was a casual conversation, but I recognized the first strike. I wasn’t allowed in this house unless I was invited. This was no longer my home. What I took from that room upstairs was a gift he bestowed upon me out of kindness. And the allowance no more than what would be expected of him to provide for a daughter living on campus.
“That is, of course, unless you’d like to move back here. You could relinquish this useless aspiration of graduating next year and instead build a quiet life in society.” My father swirled his brandy, the corner of his lip curling in what I’m sure he thought was a friendly smile. “You could continue your education of course, but there’s no need to push for a pairing when we both know it isn’t possible.”
