Blood Prophecy: Kallen's Tale (2 page)

Her mother does not believe
her.  “You caught him off guard, Xandra.  But that won’t happen again.  He got
a taste of your magic and he knows what he’s up against now.  He knows how strong
you are.  He’ll be heavily armed with amulets that will protect him from your
magic.  He’ll be working spells that are beyond anything even I have ever
seen.  And that’s just your Grandfather.  There are seven others who will be
with him who will be just as prepared.”

Xandra looks at me and I
know instantly that she is going to pull me into this conversation.  Is it too
late for me to go back to bed?  “Do you think we should run?” she asks. 

A stealthy shift of my eyes
in her parents’ direction tells me what my answer is supposed to be.  I cannot
say it simply to make them happy.  I have to be honest with her.  Fortunately,
her father does not give me a chance to say anything. 

“Xandra,” he says sharply,
“this isn’t a debate.  Nor a democracy.”

She is not going to let me
escape that easily.  She asks me again.  “Do you think we should run?”

I try to wash my face of any
emotion, as Grandmother taught me to do when in a situation that calls for
great diplomacy.  I believe this situation is precisely that.  “I do not know
how powerful the Witches your mother speaks of are.”  There, neither side can
be upset with that answer.

Okay, one side can be.  “That’s
not what I asked you,” Xandra snipes. 

Looking into her beautiful
green eyes, I try to imagine her life on the run.  Constantly looking over her
shoulder, learning to use her magic simply by trial and error – causing who
knows how much collateral damage, and never truly being able to trust anyone.  She
is not suited for that, nor do I believe there is a need for it.  I believe my
answer is going to put one foot out the door for me in regards to her parents’
hospitality, possibly both feet.  But, so be it.  “I was not raised to run from
a fight.”

For beings that can be so
still when they want to be, spirits can move quite fast when they are angry. 
Her father is now embedded in the kitchen table and his pale, translucent face
is so close to mine, I am afraid to breathe in lest I take some of his essence
into my lungs.  “I don’t care how you were raised, or what you think my
daughter should do!  I have spent the last seventeen years keeping her safe,
and no Fairy is going to come into her life and take over my job, and convince
her to do something stupid!”

Bite my tongue, bite my
tongue.  The coppery taste of blood is permeating my mouth, I am biting my
tongue so hard.  I would like nothing more than to send this spirit on to the
Shadow world at the moment.  That would probably affect Xandra’s feelings for
me in a negative way, though, so I refrain.

“Jim,” Xandra’s mother says. 
He ignores her.

Something more important
than wishing her father ill pops into my mind.  If I had not been so intent on
properly handling this conversation, I would have noticed sooner.  I need to do
better than this if I am going to make sure Xandra is safe.  Her father can
berate me later.  This needs to be addressed now.  I rise to my feet so
quickly, my chair falls backwards and skids across the floor.  “A powerful
being is on its way here.”

That gets everyone’s
attention.  Xandra’s father zooms back to her mother.  “So soon?” he asks her.

A combination of shock and
dread covers her mother’s face.  “No, it can’t be.  They would need more time
to prepare.”  She looks at me.  “Can you tell how many?” 

“Just one.  But this one is
very powerful.”  And I cannot quite get a grasp on the feel of the magic.  It
is elusive.  There is a hint of Witch, but there is something much more than
that.  I do not like that I cannot recognize it.

Xandra turns to me.  “Is it
Grandpa?”

I shake my head.  “No, I do
not recognize this magic.  I have never been in its presence.”  I know I just
made her more nervous, but she needs to be prepared for whatever is coming her
way.

“Would your father have sent
someone on ahead to try to take us by surprise?” Xandra’s father asks her
mother.

“I-I don’t know.  My father
has changed so much since I left.”  I suspect he has not changed much at all. 
You do not suddenly become the type of person who will kill his granddaughter
on sight. 

Xandra rises from her chair
and walks around the table.  “Xandra?  What are you doing?” her mother asks.

Xandra turns, and with a
determined look on her face that makes me proud of her, she says, “I’m facing
whatever they’re throwing at me.  Dad, I know you want to run, but I can’t.  I
won’t live in fear.  If this past week taught me anything, it’s that I need to
be strong enough to protect myself and the people I love.  If I am going to
survive in this world, I have to start by standing up against those who want to
kill me simply for what I am.”  If I could kiss her at the moment, I would. 
Instead, I pull magic; ready to assist her if she needs it.

Xandra throws the door
open.  There, at the end of the driveway, is a plump, middle aged woman with
long blonde hair and blue eyes.  Hair and eyes that look suspiciously like the
Witch spirit’s.

I almost laugh and shake my
head as Xandra recklessly flings her magic forward, not bothering to take the
time to assess her opponent.  She is certainly a react first, talk about it
later, kind of Witch Fairy.  A career as a diplomat is definitely out of the
question for her.

The massive amount of magic
that Xandra has sent her way is being blocked by a shield the woman has thrown
up.  It only holds for a few seconds, which is still impressive, before it
starts to buckle.  I feel Xandra pull more magic, ready to knock the shield out
completely.  She pauses when the woman shouts, “Quillian!  I mean you and your
daughter no harm!  I’ve come to help you.”  Of course she has.  I do not
believe even Xandra is naïve enough to believe that one. 

Apparently, her mother is.  “Xandra,
please stop.”

Xandra glances at her in
surprise.  “Do you know her?”

As I suspected, her mother
nods.  “She’s my mother.”  Quite the family she has.  I hope they do not get
together for holidays.  ‘Please pass the salt’ would probably spark an all-out magical
war.

Chapter 2

I feel Xandra struggling to
keep her magic under control.  I can also feel her struggle between doing what
her mother is asking, and her desire to protect everyone in her own haphazard
way.  Her mother’s wishes win.  She lets go of her magic. 

I move forward so I can take
Xandra’s hand in mine.  “Are you sure this is wise?” I ask her mother.

“No.”  Good thing she
decided to put everyone at risk, then.  I try not to let my annoyance show on
my face.  Xandra does not hide hers.

 “Why are you here?” the
spirit asks her mother.

The woman rises to her feet
and brushes the snow from her knees.  “As I said, I’m here to help you.  I
tried to talk your father out of coming back here, but I was not successful. 
He’s back home, preparing with the Witan.  Therefore, I’m here to stop him from
doing something he would regret for the rest of his days.  Provided he survives
at all.” 

She looks at Xandra as she
says this.  There is something in her eyes that I cannot read.  I do not like
that.  At all.

“Why now?” Xandra asks. 
“Way back when, you were pretty eager to kill me just like him.”  I believe her
naivety is slipping away quickly.  Too quickly.  As much as that will help keep
her safe, I am sorry for it.  She is such a pure soul; I hate to see her
tarnished by the evilness of others.

“I have always regretted my
part in forcing your mother to flee.”  Right.  That was the easy answer I expected. 
“When I told your father what had happened, I thought he and I would help keep
your secret, perhaps hide you ourselves if anyone ever guessed what happened. 
Most of all, I thought we’d protect you from the ignorant fools he surrounds
himself with.  I had no idea that he would react the way he did.”  I wonder if her
heartfelt words are true, or if this is trickery.  I am certainly not betting
on the former.  My money is on trickery.

Fire fills the Witch
spirit’s eyes.  So much so, even I want to take a step back from her.  She can
look downright evil if she sets her mind to it.  “But you didn’t do those
things.  You were going to let them kill my child.”

The older woman does a good
job of looking contrite.  I am still not buying it.  “No, Quillian.  I plead
your case to the Witan and your father.  I begged them to spare your child. 
But they wouldn’t hear me.  They were fools who could not see past their own
fear. My faith in your father was shattered that day.”  Sure it was.  Yet, she
is still his wife.  Even in my realm, where divorce is not allowed unless
serious crimes have been committed, she could have left him for what he tried
to do to his daughter.  Then, he would have had his magic bound and spent the
rest of his life in prison.  Yet, seventeen years later, neither has happened
here.  Oh, and her tears are a nice touch as she spins her tale. 

There is a bit more back and
forth between the woman and the spirit.  I am not even bothering to listen
anymore to the dribble pouring from the woman’s mouth.  Xandra apparently is.  “But,
you stayed with Grandpa all these years.  Even after supposedly losing all
faith in him?  Who would stay with someone who did something so awful to his
daughter?  That makes it kind of suspicious that you’d show up here offering to
help us fight him, don’t you think?”  Again, I could kiss her.  Hell, I always
want to kiss her.

“I stayed because I held out
hope that your mother would come home.  I stayed for her.”

I cannot help a smirk at
that one.  I give Xandra’s hand a gentle squeeze.  When she looks up at me, I
can see she does not believe the woman any more than I do.  What I can also feel,
is that her precarious hold on her magic is starting to slip.  That could be
bad for all of us.  Getting her mother’s attention, I say, “I believe it wise
to decide to either hear her out, or fend her off.”  I look at Xandra, then
back at her mother.  It takes a couple of heartbeats, but then she gets it.

Turning to her mother, she
says, “We’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.  For now.”  She turns her back
and floats back through the front door.  Still with tears in her eyes, which
are not making any of us more sympathetic towards her, the woman follows her
daughter inside.

I wait with Xandra as she
struggles to push her magic out of her.  After a few minutes, I cannot help shaking
my head and saying, “I believe your mother is being foolish.” 

Her brow scrunches into a
scowl.  I believe I may have broken her concentration because her magic is building
again.  “I thought you were going to stop insulting my mother.”  Well, not if
she keeps doing stupid things.

Her father comes to my
defense.  I never would have expected that.  “He’s right.”  If her expression
means anything, I am guessing Xandra did not expect it, either.  “We gave your
grandfather the benefit of the doubt and he tried to kill you in our kitchen. 
And if that woman has been so eager to find your mother, why didn’t she come
with her husband when we called for help?”

While Xandra ponders that, I
ask her father, “Do you believe her to be a Trojan horse?”

Xandra chooses this moment
to rib me about my age.  “Wait, you were born around that time, weren’t you? 
So, you probably got to see the Trojan horse close up, didn’t you?” 

Her attempt at humor has
fallen short.  I narrow my eyes in her direction.  “I am not quite that old in
Cowan years.  That was a couple of thousand years before my time.” 

She shrugs and smiles.  Her
green eyes are even brighter with that teasing glint in them.  “Too bad.  It
would have been pretty cool if you had.” 

I roll my eyes and try not
to smile.  “Perhaps we should concentrate on this point in time instead of when
I was born?”

She gives me a sour look and
then sighs from the bottom of her heart.  There is a distinct lack of
enthusiasm in both her voice and her posture, as she says.  “Okay, let’s go
talk to Grandma.”  Still holding my hand, she trudges into the house. 

There is an uncomfortable
silence permeating the room when we reenter the house.  The spirit is looking
like she wants nothing more than to rip the woman apart, and the woman is still
doing her best to look contrite.  It is almost convincing, but there is that something
in her eyes that tells me she is holding something back.  Regardless, in a
showdown between the two, my money is on the spirit.  She has fury on her side.

Xandra jumps right in to
fill the void.  “Where were you when Grandpa came here?  If you were so eager
to see Mom, it seems like you would have come with him.”  A streak of ire
shoots from the woman’s eyes so fiercely, I am prepared to draw magic. 

Her words are forced out
through grim lips.  “Your Grandfather neglected to tell me that your parents
had contacted him.  I heard nothing about it until my assistant overheard a
conversation between two members of the Witan.  When I called your Grandfather
to demand he tell me where to find you, he was already on his way home.  He
told me what happened.  He thought it would make me believe he had been right
all these years, but I told him he was still being a fool.  I hung up, packed,
and caught the first flight here.”

I bite my tongue yet again
to let Xandra take the lead in the conversation.  If I keep doing this, it is
going to become forked like a snake’s.  “How could he have kept it from you if
you live in the same house?  Wouldn’t you have known Mom called?  Or that he
was leaving?”

The woman looks down at her
hands and speaks some more dribble about how she and her husband used to be so
in love until he turned into a raving lunatic.  If she keeps this up, I fear
those frozen discs I ate are going to make a reappearance.  Yes, her words
sound convincing to a point, but whatever she is holding back has to be
important.  I will make damn sure she either comes clean, or she leaves this
house.  Even Xandra’s father is rolling his eyes and shaking his head.  Her
mother, on the other hand, looks as if she is buying into this slobber.

Disgusted, Xandra’s father
says, “Julienne, don’t be taken in by these lies.  Your father apologized,
claimed it was all a big mistake, that he wished he could take it back, and
then he tried to kill your daughter.”  Something I will find a way to repay him
for.

I can see the exact moment
that the Witch spirit capitulates.  Her entire body slumps and she hangs her
head.  This conversation is over.  Her mother will be staying.

The woman turns to Xandra’s
father.  I will give her credit, if she is feeling smug, she is hiding it
well.  “What can I do to convince you I am telling the truth?”

Well, that is an easy
question.  “There is a simple way.”  All eyes turn to me, but my attention is
focused on the Witch spirit.  “You insisted I take a blood oath before you
entrusted Xandra to be in my care.  You can do the same with your mother.”  And
hopefully, the woman is not skilled in manipulating blood oaths.  I will have
to listen carefully to the words spoken.

The woman inclines her head
and the corners of her mouth lift up.  She is trying to seem pleased with the
suggestion.  “An excellent idea.”  There it is again, something just below the
surface of her expression that belies the words she spoke.  Whatever secret she
is hiding behind those eyes of hers is trying to show itself.

Xandra’s mother turns to
me.  “In the closet of mine and Jim’s bedroom, on the top shelf, there is the
ceramic bowl and a knife.  You should be able to reach them easily. Xandra,
please show him the way.”

Xandra is hesitant as she
looks back and forth between her mother and the woman who is her grandmother. 
I believe she is uncomfortable leaving them alone.  Her mother rectifies that. 

“It’s fine, honey.  I have
taken the same precautions inside the house as I have outside.”  She is a lot
smarter of a Witch than I initially gave her credit for.  I do not even want to
know what might pop out at me if I make her angry enough. 

Reluctantly, Xandra tugs on
my hand and we leave the living room.  She looks back over her shoulder a
couple of times, trying to glower at the woman sufficiently so that she does
not try anything while we are gone.  Sometime, I will have to tell her that her
face is simply too beautiful and innocent looking to give off a sense of
impending doom.

Once in her parent’s
bedroom, which I find strange that it is still filled with all the things they
used when they were corporeal, Xandra opens the closet door.  Inside, all of
her parent’s clothes are still hanging neatly.  The dust and moth bites on them
tell the story of how long it has been since anyone looked in here.

Pushing some of the stuff
aside on the top shelf, I find the ceramic bowl that Xandra and I used when we
made our blood oath.  One that I had twisted slightly to meet my needs. 
Though, at this point, it is not the threat of the blood oath that makes me
want to keep her safe.

Handing Xandra the bowl, I
feel along the high shelf for her mother’s athame.  I find it strange that her
mother would use it for drawing blood.  It is supposed to be sacred and used
only in rituals.

Putting the knife in the
bowl in Xandra’s hands, I decide to use this moment alone to steal a quick
kiss.  I place my hands on her cheeks and lean towards her.  “This will all
work out.  You are strong enough to take on a hundred Witches, if necessary,” I
say, my lips only millimeters from hers.

Definition of a mood
killer?  Having your supposed girlfriend step out of your arms and accuse you
of staying not because you adore her, but to help protect her because of a
stupid blood oath that I could have nullified by going home.  Did you stay
because of the blood oath, she asked.  Unbelievable.

Standing straight, I am too
stunned for a moment to speak.  How dare she accuse me of that?  Is this her
way of telling me that I should go back home?  Like I could even if I wanted
to.  I have been angry with her before during our brief time together, but not
like this.  She might as well have stabbed me in the chest with the athame she
is holding.

Crossing my arms over my
chest, I glower down at her.  “You still do not trust me.  After coming here to
save you, after giving up the chance to return to my home and my family, you
still do not trust me.  And, just so you know, blood oaths do not travel from
realm to realm.  If I had returned to my own realm, I would have been free of
any responsibility for keeping you alive.  I could have left and never looked
back or worried about you ever again.  It is only in this realm that my life is
at risk if I do not do everything in my power to save yours.”  A prospect that
is looking grimmer by the moment.  I am starting to regret my decision to stay.

Her response?  Not an
apology, or even a thank you for staying, I am glad you are here.  No.  She
goes with, “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” 

I am seconds from walking
out of this house and not looking back.  “I did not think it necessary.  I
thought the reason I stayed was quite clear, but apparently, this time I was
the naïve one.  What an unusual twist for us.”  I grab the bowl and athame from
her and start walking towards the door.  I will drop these items off in the
living room, and then keep on going.