Broken (The Immortal Coven Book 1) (7 page)

“Well, would you look at that.” Olivia whispered to herself.

My head shook in absolute awe of having found both items. I lifted the photograph as Olivia withdrew the pendant. My fingers swiped at mom’s image, and my heart fluttered at the constant ache of missing her.

Olivia placed the palm of her hand on my shoulder, “Put this on Celia, we need to do one more thing before we are done.”

I did as I was told, no questions asked. For the moment all teenage defiance and demanding independence stretching was in off mode. I followed her back down stairs and took my seat next to her on the sofa in front of the ‘witch-craft’ coffee table.

Olivia had flipped the book to a page towards the front and was reading it to herself. Her fingers ran over the words as she took in what was written.

“You need to accept all of your abilities as your mother’s daughter. Typically, the patriarch is to hand down the magic through a succession ceremony, but as your mother had passed away, her abilities are already yours. It is now up to you to accept them in order to fully use them.”

“So how did I just do that magic without any powers?”

“You have always had magic, Celia. The difference between knowing and not knowing is the power of suggestion. If you don’t know, your ignorance becomes a barrier for use. On the opposite hand, Knowing means accepting responsibility for the consequences of using.”

“Consequences,” I repeated.

“The moment you recite the oath, you take responsibility for your actions. The good and the bad. The choices you make come with a price; they always have, and always will.” She paused for a moment, “Every spell you cast is a choice you make. You must look at every possible outcome before casting. Being a witch is a great gift but also a terrible burden. You have the ability to change destinies, rip lives apart, and because of that, the backlash is so harsh.”

“What goes around comes around?”

“Indeed, the power of three suggests that magic used to cause harm will return with equal repercussions but with a power three times greater than the individual casting the spell.”

“But what if I am in danger and use my abilities to protect myself?”

Olivia looked down to her lap, “The elements are just in their handing out of consequences. Trust the system. It’s never failed in the thousands of years it’s been in existence.”

My mind grasped the number and connected the dots. “Immortal coven” I whispered to myself.

Olivia turned back to the book and flipped to a page towards the front. I watched her, feeling very much overwhelmed. She found the text and turned back to me.

“Read this and then repeat the Latin dialect with me.” She directed, waiting for me to nod.

“Light and darkness, elements of all, and spirit of the one, I succumb to your will…” I looked to her and repeated words in Latin that somehow I knew the translation to. “
I give my soul to thee, to flow without conflict for the greater good and promise to serve only the immortal coven of nine.”

The air in the room thinned, my chest tightened making it hard to breathe, and everything became dark. My hands went up to cover my face, I felt heat on my cheeks but knew I wasn’t hot. Aunt Olivia backed away, and that was when I realized I was now standing. I couldn’t remember moving my legs. It all culminated to the humming in my head, which got louder every thudding beat of my heart. 

“I can’t…I can’t” I screamed out, feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head from the pain, the palms of my hands squeezing the top of my head as tight as I could.

The humming became crystal clear. It was then, I opened my eyes to find a lone figure standing before me and I was no longer in my aunt’s living room. A thick gray mist surrounded us, but her face was clear, her auburn eyes affixed to mine. Her hair was silky smooth and long down to her waist.

“Are you still pure?” she asked, her voice gruff as if she’d not spoken in some time.

“How do you mean?

“Have you given yourself to another?” she reiterated her question.

Sheepishly, I realized what she meant, “I am pure, yes.”

“You’ve accepted your destiny and yet you know nothing of your path. I heed caution for you young one.” She spoke gravely, her voice thick with meaning. “This life, filled with temptations and greed, you must know balance above all else.”

Somehow, I understood what she meant through her abstract way of speaking. “You’re the one that was sacrificed, aren’t you?” I asked softly, somehow feeling a strong connection to her.

She blinked at me slowly; her slight nod confirmed my inquiry.

“We have all been scarified for this circle, you should know this. When the time comes, you will know which path you will take, but for now, keep close to your protector.”

The proverbial red flag jumped out of my head at her statement, “Protector?”

The corners of her lips curved upward, “Listen to your intuition, what is it telling you?”

“It’s telling me I need to be back at home with my Aunt.” I said sarcastically.

The mist surrounding us stirred, clearing the area in which we stood. Her hair, whirled to a stirring wind in this place. “Your childish ways are done, if you do not accept this, your entire heritage will be lost!”

Fear, I was frozen by a crippling fear that I’d never felt before.

“Yes, you should be afraid.” She whispered as she came closer.

“For everything is woven together like a thread that never ends.”

Funny, I imagined the thread she spoke of, saw myself as a part of it, and imagined it going on forever.

“You are different than the rest.” She stated, reaching out to pick up my mother’s charm from the skin of my chest. Her thumb ran across the surface. “Your journey….” She paused, and her eyes met mine, “will break you.”

I felt my eyes close as she clearly handed out my fate. There was nothing I could do but I felt the urge to contradict her. With closed eyes, I whispered a truth known only to my heart.

“I am already broken.” 

The stifling air changed and again I was back in my Aunt’s living room. Her eyes affixed to mine as if I’d surprised her.

I spent the better part of the night staring out my bedroom window, watching as the bustling wind made the branches of the oak tree in front of the house sway in a calm rhythmic way.

Olivia didn’t ask what had happened. Maybe she was scared to know what had transpired in those short few moments.

I, on the other hand, kept going over it in my head, like replacing a phonograph needle to restart a black vinyl record. Over and over I replayed the words spoken and the emotions that coursed through my system.

The questions, I’d managed to stifle them somehow. Found a way around needing to know answers to questions that were mounting high enough to intimidate. Or maybe I was choosing to not wonder, for ignorance is said to be a bliss like none other. Why would I want to know truths that could take away the life I’ve always known?

  The life my mother created absent of Coventry.

Mom, I miss you so much.

CHAPTER Four

The few days that followed were quiet between Olivia and myself. Maybe she knew deep down that I would need time to process the situation at hand. It was either that or she just didn’t want to be around to see my overall reaction.

By Thursday, Lisa made it clear she wasn’t going to leave me be until I answered her one specific question, ‘
Would I be in her little witch group?
’

“The girls are all coming over Saturday night, want to join?” She started in between 1st and 2
nd
period.

I shrugged my shoulders, still not sure what to tell her. I’m pretty confident the oath I took included no playing pretend with a bunch of teeny bopper witches whose ability amounts to a fraction of what I will soon know but the look on her face was more than niceness. She really wanted me around.

“Saturday?” I asked, inconspicuously.

“We could pick you up if you want.”

It sounded like an insurance policy on her end guaranteeing that I wouldn’t go running off in the middle of any shenanigans.

“Let me think about it.” I offered. It wasn’t a no, but at the same time there was hope of having just a little more time to think out her offer, and also talk it over with Olivia.

“Great, see you at lunch.” The pep in her step seemed to return and her bubbly demeanor came as naturally as it had the day we met.

None of my hesitation came simply. A huge part of me wanted to be around them, as if I was attracted to them magnetically. I felt at ease in their presence, like I’d known them since I was born. On the other hand, worry had filled my heart. The look on The One’s face when she warned me about my future is still ever present. What if I made a mistake?

Luckily, the high school day to day brought about more than one distraction at a time. There is definitely never a dull moment.

Case in point: Carla showed up to computer lab late. Amazingly enough, Mrs. Hernon didn’t give her a hard time, but that could have had something to do with the fact that Carla came in looking like she’d spent the whole morning in tears.

“Are you alright?” I whispered as she sat in the seat next to me.

Without looking in my direction, she went in search of her glasses, as the usual, and turned on her tower.

She managed to catch up to where we were in the lesson when all of a sudden, I heard her take a wavering breath. You know, the kind you take before you burst into a fit of tears.

Reaching my hand out, I touched her forearm. “Carla, please let me help you.”

Her head began to shake and eventually the palms of her hands went up to cover her beautiful pale face. In a hushed muffled sound, she cried, “He’s never going to like me back.”

I couldn’t help but wonder who it was that had managed to destroy her poor little heart. “And whom are we speaking of?”  This was me, not too long ago, when I was consumed by boys back at my old high school.

“Jason Williams.” She finally managed, “I stood by his locker this morning for ten minutes waiting to give him a set of notes I made for our Biology class and when he finally showed up, he didn’t even notice me.” 

What could I say? Nothing…..she’d gone out on a limb for a boy who didn’t even notice her existence. It’s not fair, but boys don’t get much about girls, especially, to notice when we are feeding attention towards them, which is the one thing they thrive on…Attention!

I felt my face scrunch, a really bad habit of mine I wish I could prevent from happening. Mainly, since it was proof that I felt she was being ridiculous by caring so much.

“I’ve liked him for a few years now, Celia. He isn’t a new flavor, as Cassidy refers to them. He is my one.”

My biggest flaw will always be advice. I give it when I can hardly stand to take it. “Have you ever thought to tell him how you feel?” I paused, realizing I’d started.

Oddest thing however, Carla stopped crying, her eyes had become wide with interest and she was waiting for me to continue. What else could I do but to finish my statement?

“I mean, years of emotions could go wasted if he never knows about them. And then what? What if at one point he felt even a fraction of interest for you but assumed that by your lack of acknowledgement, he never attempted to take his attentions any further. What a waste that would be. What would be worse is if you both ended up admitting these feelings much later on, after you’d moved on. The, what could have been, torments you and becomes a plague of regret that only ruins a friendship that had always been.”

I sighed and looked back at my computer screen.

“I never thought of it like that, Celia. Did something like this happen to you?” she asked, sniffing her nose.

“No, I just can’t imagine having feelings for someone and them not knowing about it. Life is too short. Who knows, what if they die and you never get the chance to tell them how you feel. The moments and emotions are wasted and there is nothing to show for it. Not even a memory.”

Mrs. Hernon walked up to us and stood between our two computer screens.

“For as little as the two of you are typing compared to the conversation I hear being mumbled over here, I will be surprised you get the assignment completed in time.”

Sheepishly, we apologized and went back to working on our individual assignments. Every now and again I would catch her glancing at me.

She stopped crying, which really was the point of the advice I had dished out.

Tears have a purpose, but I’ve never fully understood how crying makes pain lift easy from our being. It’s as if each tear contains an ounce of emotions that is being expelled from us when we are distressed.

Who knows, maybe I can’t understand tears, a normal human function because of what I’ve been through.

We managed to finish Hernon’s assignment to a presentable state.

“Thank you for what you said earlier, Celia.”

“No thanks necessary. I really should stop putting my two cents in these things anyway. It’s your life you should be doing what you want to do no matter what anyone says.”

“Yes, you’re right, but I would still be crying had you not shown me reason.”

Of course, I wouldn’t think of meddling as a good thing. So many times I’d been told to mind my own business by so called friends.

Turning the corner out of the classroom, I took a double take towards a figure at the end of the hallway. It looked like Dmitri lurking by the doorway. Dmitri who had been absent from school since he’d walked me home, since I realized my mother had been a witch.

“I will see you later.” I told Carla, waving as I merely walked away.

Reaching the glass doors at the end of the hall, I confirmed that the figure was indeed Dmitri’s.

“Hi stranger.” My tone more annoyed than I wanted to admit.

“I figured we could walk to P.E. together.”

“Well that is very gallant of you, but won’t your boys have something to say about that?”

“I could care less what anyone says about me.” And there it was again, the other worldly sound about him, making him seem ancient regardless of what his physical qualities deem real.

Taking lead, I started the path to the other side of campus. “So where have you been, I haven’t seen you around?”

“I caught something. Why, did you miss me?” the amusement spread across his face, and completely did the usual 180.

Without thinking, my mouth started moving, not giving my mind enough time to catch up, “I did not miss you, I just wondered if my nonsense from the other day made you uncomfortable.”

“Funny.” He blurted out, his face fixed forward.

“Excuse me?” I said, my feet suddenly becoming very heavy. I stopped walking and took in his tall lean figure go a few feet ahead of me.

When he realized I had stopped walking, he turned around and shook his head. “Nothing you could say or do could possibly make me uncomfortable, Celia. Believe me when I say, I’ve seen some pretty unbelievable things.”

There he went again, sounding incredibly ancient.

“Why do you do that?” I asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” starting as I closed the distance between us, “that every time you speak to me, your demeanor changes as if you’re a character from a far off land.”

“And every time you speak to me, I want nothing more than to kiss you. It seems we are both challenged to understanding something new and confusing.” His face hovered over mine. Close enough, that if he truly wanted, he could make true his words.

“Yes, well, we can’t always have what we want, and weren’t you the one who said we should only be friends.”

“I vaguely recall such a statement.”

“I recall it perfectly well, and how miniscule it made me feel.”

He tenderly sucked in a breath, as if to say more, counter me once again, but said nothing. Finally, he shook his head and turned away from me.

“We are going to be late.” He groaned.

Letting the words rest in my mind, the walk behind him to the gym was far too long. With every step, I felt him further and further away. The distance was the same, but the warmth of his closeness had worn off. In its place, longing.

I did not bury my nose in a novel during that hour. I sat on the bleachers and watched him. Feeling as though taking my eyes off of him would make him vanish, and I did not want him to disappear again.

He is like no other boy I’d ever met, and for some reason, I can’t decide if I should be terrified by his peculiar nature or excited by it.

My imagination played at the movements of his lean muscular figure, keen on the flexing of his calf muscles as he stepped, turned and twisted, the way he almost clenched his jaw every time he took a shot. He followed the other boys across the court like a hungry lion, wanting to get the ball back, but he didn’t chase them. He was calculating the precise moment to strike. Time after time, Dmitri dominated but awed the other players, as he proved his skills.

Before I knew it, the basketball court was clearing out and everyone was heading into the locker rooms to change.

Before he disappeared, I caught him turn in my direction. He paused for only a moment, his features remaining emotionless, and then he was gone.

I gathered my belongings and left the gym, not waiting for anyone. More like making sure no one would have the opportunity to follow me.

Trisha greeted me as I reached the ‘dungeon’ as my 4
th
period photography classmates like to refer to our class.

“Look at you all out of breath. You’re a whole 5 minutes early. Don’t you come from the gym?”

“And you? How do you get here so early?” I countered.

“I’m next door for 3
rd
. Art.”

“I wasn’t running. I left gym early. I don’t have to dress out until next week. I don’t have a locker yet.”

“Well aren’t you the lucky one. I remember having P.E., about the only good thing was seeing the boys sweat as they played their group sports.”

She’s right….it really is the only good thing about the class.

“Do you know any of the boys in your class?” she asked curiously as she flipped through a photography book.