SILVERBONE: The Sorceress' Ring

June

Blurred lights filtered through my fluttering eyelashes while a voice quietly beckoned me.

“Gennifer…Gennifer, are you awake? Are you okay?”

My eyelids managed to part completely so that I could make out Sasha leaning over me with a worried brow. Above her head, I recognized the ceiling and old chandelier of her uncle’s living room.

“Is she awake?” came Markus’ disquieted query.

Sasha turned her head, saying, “Yes.”

Footsteps. Markus appeared above me with his phone pressed to his ear. Carefully, he inquired, “Are you alright, Gennifer? Are you hurt?”

Because of my new healing abilities, my body felt absolutely fine. All fine apart from my bewilderment. I nodded, replying, “Yeah, I’m fine.” I sat up only to be punished by dizziness, which I resented. I expected the healing process to also refresh blood pressure..

Relieved, Markus spoke into the phone, “She’s alright, thank God. Sh-” He stopped abruptly to listen on the other end. “O-okay, here she is.” Markus handed me the phone.

Curious, I said, “Hello?”

“Gennifer, thank God,” Mr. Vence sighed on the other end. “Markus told me he found you unconscious in the alley. What happened?”

I dreaded to answer because it made it more real, but I gathered all my courage and replied, “It was the man in the mask. He’s still here. He wasn’t the Butcher after all.”

“I am so sorry, Gennifer. I should have been there,” Mr. Vence started.

“No one could have predicted that this would happen, Mr. Vence. Don’t worry. I’m okay. I’m not hurt. There was a quarrel. He made a threat. I got angry. There was a big boom and then I lost consciousness. So, I don’t know what happened to him, but for now, I’m okay,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. “I will talk with Xavier. Perhaps he will let me go to you.”

“You’re in Romania?” I inquired.

“Yes. But I’m going to go to you,” he answered.

Guilt ravaged my yearning for his presence, so I replied, “No. I understand you need to help your friend. I’m going to be okay. Just please be careful.”

“Likewise. And do not worry about me. We are well protected here,” he told me.

A pause. I didn’t want to hang up. Just hearing his voice brought me solace. It had only been a couple weeks, and already I missed seeing him every day, and the ache within me craved for his attention, his touch, and even the possibility of his kiss. I had to keep him going.

“So, have you met the infamous Drakulya yet?” I asked.

“I have,” he answered.

“What’s he like?”

“Strangely cordial.”

“Then I hope he’s treating you well,” I said.

“He’s been an earnest and honorable host. So has been his help and the girl he pines for. She’s very young. Only twenty-one,” he told me.

I bit my lip, wondering if he felt negatively about romantic relationships with significant age gaps. If he did, I would die. Trying to control the somersaults in my stomach, I answered, “Serves him right for falling for a human. Talk about the ultimate irony.”

“Well, it is complicated along with being an ethical and moral issue,” he started, and I gulped. Ethical and moral? Was he suggesting the age difference? The thought of him being repulsed by dating someone at a younger age killed me. Thankfully, he continued, “His affinity for the girl ensures that he will rectify all the wrongs he has committed. However, it seems wrong in itself to force the poor girl into reciprocating his affections in hopes that he and Eléston will change.”

“Yeah,” I sympathized. “Love can’t be forced. You just love who you love.”

“Precisely,” he said, and I was happy that he agreed. Perhaps that was hope for the future. Some voices filled in for background noise on his end, inclining him to add, “Sounds like we are about to have another meeting. I will need to go. Call me for anything.”

“Of course. Thank you,” I said.

“Good night, Miss Gennifer.”

“Good night, Mr. Vence.”

August

Water in Markus’ bird bath within his garden rippled from the middle to the edge, sending tiny circular waves throughout the stone bowl. Sweat formed over my forehead as I concentrated, trying my best to ignore New Orleans’ excruciating, humid heat and the vibrant colors of nature around me.

Lift into the air. Come on. Even if it’s just a little drop. Lift up.

The water understood that I was commanding it to move, but it stubbornly rippled in place as if a pebble was dropping in its center for all eternity. Spencer made telekinesis look so easy. A massive headache throbbed inside my cranium. No matter how hard I focused, the damn water just wouldn’t obey me.

Flustered, I threw my hands in the air and quit, grunting, “Screw you, friggin H20.” I cringed deeply inside. Did I just call the water H2O? And I couldn’t even come up with a good curse? As a Witch, I was hopeless, and as a dark Witch, I was a complete catastrophe.

While Markus continued to teach Sasha and me witchcraft, he wasn’t well versed in the magical abilities of dark Witches. Really, I needed a mentor who was a sorceress like me. Yet, I shuddered at the thought because that meant I would have to show off all my incompetencies.

“Hey, Gen,” Sasha greeted as she strode into the back yard. I faced her and reciprocated the salutation. She continued, “Uncle Markus said we can go into town for a girls’ outing. With school being a week away, he’s encouraging us to have fun and stuff.”

That did sound nice, though guilt immediately infiltrated my brain. I didn’t deserve to have a good time. After all, I was failing at being a mediocre Witch at best. Seeming to read me, Sasha went on.

“C’mon. This will be good for you. We’ve earned it, no matter where we are in our educational journey, right?” She grabbed my hands and pulled on me playfully. “Let’s go! Let’s have some fun.”

Submitting to her, I casted aside the gnawing guilt in my chest and followed her to Markus’ car. At least that was one thing I happened to excel at. Sasha and I were able to drive and received our license that summer. Even though I had ended up having a Louisiana license instead of a Kansas one, I figured it didn’t really matter since I traveled a lot and spent most of my time in Washington.

Sasha drove to downtown New Orleans where we spent a good chunk of time finding a parking space before setting off into the narrow streets sandwiched with colorful local businesses whose signs protruded over the sidewalks.

“I’m thinking we should just enjoy downtown first,” Sasha said as we strode beside bustling tourists. “Then we can go to the mall and look for new clothes.”

I agreed while the savory scents of cajun cuisine wafted through the hot air. “We should get lunch, too.”

“Definitely,” Sasha agreed. “I’m thinking of maybe a seafood boil.”

On que, my stomach growled with agreement.

We ambled across the pavement and onto the sidewalk, heading toward one of our favorite restaurants. Clusters of locals and tourists strolled around us or filled up the popular establishments. Clopping sounds from a mule’s hooves while pulling a carriage echoed further down the street met with a few outdoor vendors playing live jazz.

We brisked into the restaurant, and I was relieved to feel the air conditioning refresh my hot, moistening skin. Indistinct bantering sounds bounced across vibrant red walls interrupted only by windows while clusters of people sat at their tables as their silverware noisily clicked and scraped against their plates and bowls. Soon, we were seated, and a couple of menus and drinks later, Sasha and I received our food.

“We can get some school supplies today as well,” Sasha announced while she waited for her seafood boil to cool down.

I nodded. “I need a new binder.”

Sasha squeezed some lemon juice on her food. “I would like some new pens for my grimoire. And I wouldn’t mind a few new yellow dresses.”

I smiled as I squeezed a lemon slice over my food as well. “I’m looking forward to new clothes as well…” Maybe some clothes Mr. Vence would like on me.

A shadow loomed over our table as if someone was passing by, but just as quickly, a young woman sat beside Sasha, sliding into the tiny booth until my friend was squished up against the wall. I stiffened as Ophelia’s blue eyes met mine. Sasha’s nervous gaze flicked at me and Ophelia, unsure.

Before I could get a word in, Ophelia started, “Hey, girl. It’s been some time since we talked.”

The last time I encountered Ophelia, she had seamlessly killed someone with her mind. The poor guy was left in a puddle of plasma and bones. All I could muster was, “What are you doing here?”

“I love New Orleans. It’s full of spiritual energy. It’s one of the most haunted towns in the United States. It’s a great place to communicate with Demons,” she responded nonchalantly.

I shuddered at the word. From my experience, Demons were very unlikable characters. Figuring there was something more, I demanded, “What else?”

Her seductive smile grew, narrowing her sultry eyes. “You’re here also. Just want to spread another friendly reminder that the door is open for you at the Superiors.”

I scoffed. “They want me dead.”

“Until they found out about how you killed the Butcher,” Ophelia added. “And not just that, but also how you were able to bring someone back from the dead without using traditional necromancy.”

“I’m not joining them,” I replied sternly.

Unoffended, Ophelia shrugged. “The choice is yours, Silverbone. But do consider that you will be surrounded by magic wielders like you. You will be taught by the best of the best. Only dark witches are capable of actually training you. Something that Blackstone does not offer.” With that, she stood, gathering herself and flipping her curly red hair over her right shoulder. Before departing she added, “Oh, and thank you for saving Mr. Vence. He’s one of the good ones.” She winked then left, her high heels clacking into the distance until she was swallowed up by exuberant conversations and live jazz in the street.

A twinge of spite flickered in my heart. That’s right. Ophelia had romantic feelings for Mr. Vence. My Mr. Vence. Even though he held no desire for her, Ophelia was a remarkably gorgeous young woman, and I couldn’t help but endure a bit of jealousy.

Our silverware and plates clattered on top of our table in response to the envy hammering in my chest.

“It’s okay, Gennifer,” Sasha said calmly. My attention went to her. Recognizing the result of my powers, I attempted to relax. It would suck if my plate of cajun seasoned mussels suddenly flew off the table and hit the older lady sitting nearby. After a collection of deep breaths, the vibrations ceased.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” Sasha added sympathetically. “It must be a lot.”

Of course she was referring to my complicated relationship with the Superiors. At the moment, that didn’t really matter to me. Only Mr. Vence did.

Priorities.

I had to tell him about my encounter with Ophelia.