Something was wrong. The liquid burned, hot like fire as it trickled down my throat, swirling around my stomach. Why couldn’t I get this right? I mixed it just the way Jane had told me to—two sage leaves, a vial of honey water, three oyster pearls, and a pinch of mountain ash. Now she was staring at me, arms crossed, looking like I just killed her favorite pet.
She furrowed her brow. “Arya, you forgot the willow bark. Again.”
Of course I did. I’d been training at Sanctum for ten years and I was the only witch who couldn’t master this. I could read spells in three different languages, fight off shadow demons in simulation without even breaking a sweat, and conjure all of the Four Winds, but I couldn’t remember a simple potion recipe.
I rubbed at my eyes, my vision blurring from the potion fumes. “Sorry, Miss Jane. I’ll remember next time.”
Her antique spectacles slid down her nose as she walked. “That’s what you said the last time. And the time before that. I’m concerned you aren’t taking any of this serious, Arya. Your mother was a great potion master. I find it hard to believe that you didn’t inherit any of her abilities.”
Ouch. I barely knew my mother, or my father for that matter. They had both died, fighting in the Blood War, a war that Jane’s own daughter, Gray, had started, and won. But so many, like my parents, didn’t survive it. I was only eleven years old when I was brought here to Sanctum—a safe haven for creatures like me. Nestled on a jagged cliff in the North Sea of Scotland, Sanctum was a place where all creatures were welcome—witches, dhampirs, werewolves—even harpies, though not one single harpy had ever come. The harpies didn’t mingle with anyone but themselves. The rest of us were happy to be here. We could live and train under a blanket of safety and protection.
But it wasn’t my home. My family wasn’t here.
With each passing year, it got harder and harder to remember what my parents even looked like. All I had left was a faint memory of my mother, the harsh tone of her voice as she warned me to stay away from our birth coven, the Sylphs. As a branch of the four Elemental covens, we could control the winds, and I had mastered them. But just days after my twenty-first birthday, I still had no answers for why she had kept me from them. Every witch had a coven. Except for me. I was alone.
My palms itched from the faulty potion. “May I be excused, Miss Jane?”
Without looking up from her spell book, a thick dusty text with torn edges and burnt corners, she waved me off. “Don’t forget next time,” she murmured.
Without hesitating, I sprinted out of the room. I wanted to get as far away from those potions as possible. Traces of the spoiled liquid still lingered, leaving the back of my throat raw and scratchy like wet sandpaper.
Slowing my sprint to a brisk speed-walk through the corridors of Sanctum, I did my best to ignore the snickers and whispers from the other students, who most likely heard my latest scolding. It was something I had gotten good at—shutting out the world that I never felt like I belonged in. It seemed no matter what I did, there was always someone there to remind me that I wasn’t good enough. Today was no different as I did my best to deflect their icy glares.
Passing the meditation room, the familiar scents of jasmine, myrrh, and sandalwood teased my senses. It was comforting. I should have spent more time in there but having it all to myself proved to be a challenge. One night, a few years ago, I remembered to set an alarm to wake me up right before dusk. The halls were dark and empty as I crept down there, barefoot and drowsy from sleep. And just as I’d hoped, the whole room was mine alone. But I was too relaxed. At some point, I must have dozed off, the sound of cackling jolted me awake. A group of Crescent witches laughed and pointed while I ran out, wiping the drool from my face.
I hadn’t been back to the meditation room since.
Picking up my pace, I whipped past a row of ornate wood-carved doors just as colorful puffs of smoke seeped out from underneath—a sobering reminder that there were witches in there who had no trouble brewing a simple potion.
The clanking of swords echoed out from one of the combat training rooms as I turned down another corridor. Filled mostly with dhampirs and Lupi wolves, they couldn’t have cared less about my status, but the stone walls of Sanctum were thin if you were a witch. There were very few secrets here. It was irritating. At least I still had one secret that was mine alone.
I pulled up the hood of my cloak and focused on the path ahead, wishing I were invisible. It would have been nice to get to the Three Blind Mice without confrontation for once. Sanctum’s in-house pub was an exact replica of the one in New Orleans—built here as a tribute to the man who owned it. Apparently he was Gray’s lover and died protecting her from Cerberus. I was just grateful that I could get a drink without veering too far from my room.
Eyeing the entrance, I could already feel the warm presence of my friends on the other side. My muscles relaxed as I pushed open the thick cherrywood door and sauntered over to their table. Letting out a sigh, I sank into the deep leather booth and signaled to the server at the bar.
Sapphire leaned forward, expectant, while Diego stifled a giggle by pretending to cough. He loved to tease me and often told me I had an unhealthy flair for the dramatic. Sapphire, on the other hand, was good at deflecting. She could always tell when I was in one of my moods but often refused to acknowledge it.
I pushed a strand of dark black hair behind my ear, catching a quick glimpse of the newly dyed blue streak that ran through it. “I need a drink, stat. Preferably one that doesn’t burn my throat.”
Diego chuckled, his brown eyes lighting up. “Failed your test again?”
I sank farther back into the booth, folding my arms to my chest. “Cute. This coming from the wolf who couldn’t shape-shift without crying himself to sleep at night.”
“She does have a point there,” Sapphire quipped. Her dark eyes mirrored her mother’s when she smiled. As the daughter of Zari—coven leader of the Rain Makers, Sapphire didn’t smile in public often. The pressure to live up to her mother’s expectations was a heavy burden. It also drove her to excel at everything.
“Hey, I was only a fledgling.” Diego’s deep melodic voice grew two octaves higher, sending all three of us into a fit of laughter.
As the server brought over my usual snifter of absinthe, or green fire as Diego liked to call it, Sapphire’s smile vanished, her gaze fixated on her own drink.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked.
After a quick glance around the room, she lowered her voice. “There’s talk that the Imperator hasn’t checked in for a while. No one’s heard from her partner either.”
“Gray and Dragos? That’s a little strange…but not shocking. Those two are always on the move. They’re probably just taking a well-deserved vacation.” I had met Gray once when I was first brought here, after the war. She was fierce and beautiful, and I wanted to be just like her. Though I’d never admit that to anyone. My skills were nowhere close to being as good as hers.
Sapphire shrugged as she sipped her martini, dangling the glass between her slender fingers with the poise of a socialite—unconcerned that up close, her palms were covered in callouses and knife scars. “No one has had any contact with her in the last six months. At least that’s what my cousin told me.”
Diego ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. He always had to make sure every strand of hair was in its perfect place. “If the imperator was missing, I think we’d know about it, mi amica.” His Italian accent had faded from centuries of being away from his homeland, but came out when he used his native tongue.
There weren’t many secrets at Sanctum, but those that existed were held close and locked away from those of us who weren’t in the inner circle. There was a time when great atrocities had been committed here. Back before the war, when this sacred place had been a battleground between Gray and her enemies. The blood had been washed away, but sometimes I thought I could hear the hushed breathings of ancient ghosts between the cracks of its stone walls.
I hoped Diego was right, but Sapphire didn’t look convinced. Knowing she wasn’t one to partake in petty gossip, a tiny shiver ran up my spine. What if it were true? If Gray was in danger, then all of us would be too.
I had to force those thoughts away. Between the failed potion test and the questions I had about my own history, I had enough weighing on my mind.
“Well, I’m turning in, guys and girls. Try not to worry about Gray. She’s survived this long. I’m sure she’s fine.” With that, I gave them each a hug and made my way back to my room.
The halls of Sanctum were like a maze. It had taken me years to get my bearings. Plus with all the witches crafting spells around every corner, some of the corridors would dead end without warning. Those were supposed to be childish pranks, but they made me feel even more foolish and alone back then. I could still hear their hysterical laughter like it was yesterday, patting each other on the back for succeeding in freaking me out.
Still, that was then. Now the others left me mostly alone. I did my best to blend into the shadows and not draw attention to myself. It was easier to manage the older we grew. The female witches became more interested in how they looked and the male witches became more interested in them. They forgot about me and I liked it that way.
The heavy steel door creaked as I opened it, but gave way easily, and I moved inside my room, flopping onto the bed. Using magic was exhausting, especially when you screwed it up. At least I had a firm grasp on my spellcasting. Satisfied that my locking spell was secure, I stretched out my arms and allowed my wings to unfold. The black feathers felt soft and comforting against my pale white skin. I flapped them against my shoulders, wrapping them around me like a soft blanket.
I’d been hiding this part of myself for so long it had become second nature. I was an Elemental Sylph witch with black wings—a rarity even within my own coven. At least that’s what Jane told me. It was one of the few things I knew about my family’s coven.
If the others found out what I was, I wouldn’t be welcome here. They already thought I was weird enough. Jane and the council kept my secret in hopes that I would fit in better, but the Elementals didn’t help Gray during the Blood War, and according to everyone at Sanctum, they couldn’t be trusted. I couldn’t risk them thinking that of me too. Not even Sapphire and Diego knew that I was an Elemental. The guilt that came along with it sometimes kept me up at night, but it was my cross to bear, and I didn’t want to burden them with it.
Flipping through my copy of the Sang Magi spell book, I turned to the potion section again, desperate to understand what I was doing wrong…but all the ingredient names seemed to blur together. Not even the most sacred book of magic could help me. It was useless. I tossed it on the floor and buried my head in my hands.
A sharp pain seared between my temples and I rifled through my desk for a calming elixir. My ears tingled. Just when I thought I could finally relax, the silent comfort of my room was interrupted by a burst of frantic voices, echoing throughout the halls. This time of night was always so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. What the hell was going on out there?
Folding my wings back into my shoulders, I crept to the door and pressed my cheek against it. The brisk shuffling of feet was paired with gasps and whispers. With my ear still on the door, I reached for my hoodie and pulled it on, always careful to keep my back covered. Even with my wings hidden, two distinct black lines were etched into my shoulder blades, thick and somewhat raised like a freshly inked tattoo. The footsteps in the hall intensified, a mixture of heavy boots and pointy heels thudding against the floor with urgency. I threw open the door just as Sapphire came bumbling toward me, breathless.
“Arya! Something’s happening. Everyone’s heading toward the library. C’mon, let’s go.” She tugged at my wrist.
I let her drag me down the hall. “Hold on. Slow down. Why is everyone freaking out?” Faces full of shock and awe whipped past us.
She spun around, full stop, and faced me, almost knocking me back. “Chaos is here.”
“The god?” I couldn’t have heard her right. Maybe I drank too much of that calming elixir.
“No, the rock star. Yes, the god. We need to hurry and get in there.” Her grip tightened around my wrist as we followed the frenzied crowd toward the Library of Covens.
My heart pounded. The gods didn’t leave Elysium unless the fate of humanity depended on it. At least that was what happened the last time. The only time actually. Gray had convinced Chaos to help her fight in the Blood War against Cerberus, the guardian of the Underworld. But we were in an age of peace now. Why was he here?
As I scurried to keep up with Sapphire, my imagination went into overdrive, thinking of all the possible end-of-world scenarios. A sinking sensation formed in the pit of my stomach as we reached the entrance.
The library walls were covered in books that shot up to the ceiling, three-stories high. Polished oak ladders were strategically placed every few feet. They slid from right to left with ease. As I stepped inside, my feet gave way slightly into the plush red carpet. Traces of dust and the faint scent of parchment tickled my nose.
The energy reverberated through the room like sound waves. A soft wind began to hum in my ears, trickling all the way down to my fingertips. It tingled in my spine. My Sylph magic moved through me on its own. What the hell is happening to me?
We spotted Diego through the crowd and made our way over to him. As the blood rushed to my feet, I leaned back against the wall to steady myself. A cold wind filled my ears, thundering as if I had just stuck my head out the window of a moving car. The room seemed to spin as my equilibrium shifted and bile climbed up my throat.
“Arya, are you okay?” Diego placed a warm hand on my shoulder.
“Um, I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled.
“Please don’t. You know how queasy I get.” A fresh sheen covered his face as he pleaded with me.
Breathe, Arya. Just breathe. “Sorry. Must have been something I ate.” Deep down I knew that wasn’t true. There was a force much stronger than spoiled food swirling around in my belly. I leaned further back against the stacks, wondering which sacred text I was soiling with my sweat.
Sapphire placed her hands on my temples. “Take a deep breath and focus on me.” She hummed softly, rubbing my forehead.
I did as she said, breathing in slow while I gazed at her smooth face, her almond-shaped eyes, her black-as-night hair, getting lost in each intricate braid wrapped tight to her head, twisting in and out like branches. Within seconds my skin tingled and the wind in my ears began to settle. It rumbled low like distant drums, and then left my ears with the force of a vacuum. I released another deep breath and wiped a handful of sweat off my brow.
“Thanks. How did you do that?” My throat was dry, but I no longer wanted to throw up.
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her blue velvet coat, protecting them as if they were now vulnerable from the magic that had just been released from them. “I’m a Rain Maker, remember? Healing people…it’s what we do.”
I nodded, realizing that we never talked about magic. “I gotta stop eating in the Brew Market.”
The Brew Market sprang up on Sanctum’s Scottish shores not long after we first arrived here. It was full of black-market traders and thieves, trying to cash in on the new supernatural element that had landed. It was dangerous, but a welcome relief from the restlessness I felt inside these walls.
She squinted at me with that familiar look of ire on her face that she got whenever I broke the rules. “The Brew Market? You know we’re not supposed to go near there.”
Before I could respond, her attention turned to the commotion that was happening around us. Thank the gods. I didn’t want to get into another argument about my extracurricular activities. Everyone was here—witches, dhampirs, Lupi, and everyone in between. Sanctum housed an interesting mix of species. The Lupi were born with wolf magic, but the Rougarou wolves were once human but had been bitten and then transformed by wolf magic. Their magic was much weaker and they were often treated as the lesser species.
Most of the dhampirs here were hybrids—blood suckers who could also do magic. They were immortal descendants of the sun god, Apollo, and belonged to an order called the Consilium. Ten years ago, Jane’s daughter, Gray, came along and took it over, inviting the Crescent witches and the Lupi wolves into the fold. After they had beat Cerberus, Gray created Sanctum for all of us. But I wasn’t like the rest of them. And they all knew it.
Jane had positioned herself at the head of the room, and standing next to her was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Except he wasn’t a man at all. He was a god. Chaos remained quiet, his face lighting up with amusement as most of the female beings, and some male, salivated at the sight of him. His dark hair hung just below his ears, shiny like obsidian and with a slight wave to it. It cast a faint shadow over his bronzed skin.
His eyes were dark like his hair, almost black. He scanned the room, allowing his gaze to linger over every face like he was searching for someone, or something. My breath caught in my throat when his gaze met mine. A fluttering stirred in my belly, a longing that I had buried deep. He flashed me a grin, and I stumbled back into the bookstacks. Real graceful, Arya.
Before I could recover, his gaze had already moved on. I cursed under my breath and hoped he didn’t see. Prayed I wasn’t blushing. Such a cruel betrayal of the body when blood and flesh revealed our innermost desires with bright red cheeks and sweaty palms.
Jane held up her hands to silence the whispers. “Attention, please. We have a very special guest with us this evening. He has traveled all the way here from Elysium to pay us a visit. Please join me in welcoming Chaos into our humble home. Come, let us feast.”
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. I, on the other hand, had a knot in the pit of my stomach. Chaos’ energy was uncontrolled, but guarded. I couldn’t get a complete read off of him…and I could read anybody.
Diego threw me a sideways glance. “How nice of him to grace us with his sexy presence. A little unusual though, don’t you think?”
“It’s beyond strange,” I whispered, more to myself than to anyone else. “I wonder what he wants.”
“Jane doesn’t look alarmed.” Sapphire shrugged her shoulders but her eyes narrowed as she watched Chaos follow Jane out the side entrance of the library.
Jane didn’t look relaxed either. Apart from the gorgeous specimen accompanying her, I couldn’t help but notice a slight twitch in her right eye and her lips more pursed than usual. From her tight bun, with not a single hair out of place, all the way down to her polished leather boots—our head mistress was always perfectly put together. So the presence of a tiny thread hanging from the sleeve of her tweed jacket bothered me immensely.
I shuffled behind my friends as the room began to empty out toward the dining hall. Despite all of the excitement, it was getting late and I was still exhausted from my training.
“I’m really going to bed this time. See you at lunch tomorrow?” I tried to stifle a yawn without success.
“I don’t think sleep is going to help you pass that potion test tomorrow,” Diego teased, a sloppy grin on his face. I feigned shock and punched a playful jab into his shoulder.
Sapphire shook her head as he stumbled off, chuckling to himself. “One of these days that wolf is going to piss off the wrong witch.” A flicker of amusement, mixed with adoration, passed through her eyes.
“I think that’s the only reason why he hangs out with us. We’re his witch bodyguards,” I joked.
Walking back to our rooms, we avoided the subject of tonight’s festivities, opting instead to talk about mundane stuff—who had a crush on who, what we were going to wear to the Imperator’s Ball, and how delicious the new honeycomb sugar cookies were in the dining hall. As we moved down the last corridor, a group of three blond-haired witches—Crescent witches from London—dawdled past, snickering as they turned their noses up at us. I did my best to ignore them, but it was just another reminder that I was without a coven. Sapphire was the only witch who would give me the time of day. Our mothers fought on the battlefield together. Sapphire said that bonded us for life. She had been my best friend ever since.
“Goodnight. Sweet dreams,” I called to her as I shoved open the door to my room. She mumbled something similar back before disappearing down the dimly lit corridor.
I locked the door behind me and sagged back against it. Finally alone with my own thoughts, the image of Chaos resurfaced from where it had been lingering in the back of my mind. As tired as I was, I doubted I’d get any sleep tonight. They could have all the celebration feasts they wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that the gods didn’t leave Elysium unless something was wrong.
Don’t stop now. Keep reading with your copy of SMOKE AND RITUAL by City Owl author, Melissa Sercia.
And find more from Adrienne Blake at authoradrienneblake.com