Page 13 of Above
“That’s exactly the problem.The stars will.Who cares what they want? What have they ever done for our family other than curse us with broken bodies and foul magic?”
Furious now, I walked to the desk and snatched my book. “You can be a real bitch sometimes.”
Then I stormed out, not even saying goodbye to Mama as I passed her amongst the shelves. They loved to hate my magic. To stop me from using it at home to fix things or make our lives better. To make me hide it or resist its pull. But magic would be exactly what saved them in the end.
Making my way across the icy path, I tugged my hood up over my curls, not wanting to be noticed. I was tired of it. How other of eadi dealt with this, I’d never know.
As I passed by the gallows just outside of the shops center, I was forced to acknowledge the still-hanging corpses. Protestors.
Tucking my head, I made quick work of the distance between the shops and my home, feeling the ache from the repeated scaling I had to do to escape from the house of the man I had fucked, drugged, and then robbed last night. But I had needed just a bit more coin. Enough to support my family in case something went wrong tomorrow.
Now I was paying for it, rotating my shoulder and unlocking the latch with my magic instead of the key just to spite Celeste—though she’d never know it. Once inside, I stripped off my cloak and boots, my thick, beige long-sleeve and my dark brown trousers welcoming the chill. Had Dad forgotten to start a fire?
Death quickly ran to me, weaving between my feet and meowing loudly. Laughing, I scooped her up and walked toward the hearth on the far wall of the kitchen. No fire was lit, the air still and cold. Where was Dad?
Now slightly panicked, I ran to the hall, darting to Mama and Dad’s room. Without bothering to knock, I shoved the door open, my eyes latching onto Dad’s snoring figure. Stars. My racing heart quickly slowed, my head aching as it so often did. I needed to take a tonic.
He was just sleeping. He was alive. He’d be okay.
Tiptoeing to him, I crept up to the bed and tugged their thicker quilt over his body. Then I gently placed a kiss to his forehead and walked out. This was shaping up to be an awful final day at home.
Passing the kitchen, I set Death down and walked out the door, stomping along the dirt path that led to the side of our house where we kept our wood in a small shed Dad had built before we were born. It had held up well over the decades, though I noticed as I opened the hatch that there must have been a leak. I would fix that tonight. Grabbing a few logs, I headed back inside. After starting a fire, showing Death some love, and beginning work on the lamb stew, I finally headed down to my lab.
Death was eager to follow, her belly now full from the scraps I had offered her. She liked it down here as much as I did. The air was stuffy and smelled of books and bones, but it was like a safe place. Somewhere that I could be both sides of myself. A sanctuary where the war inside my heart could pause.
While I needed to get some work done, I found myself grabbing my journal, wanting to write down the feelings that wished to bombard me. Dad had encouraged Mama, Celeste, and I to write in them regularly. Though it was mostly for sentimental reasons, Dad was also big on history as it was meant to be—firsthand and true. He had many copies of old family journals from over the years, generations of Tershetta’s dating back to the dark times before the stars had gifted Dajahim magic.
Furiously, I scribbled my own thoughts down. I wrote about Celeste, about the ritual, about Dad’s health. Everything that came across my mind was added. By the time I finally closed the leather book I was feeling, as I often did, relieved and lighter. Stretching, I turned on my wooden stool, facing the vial of haya I was experimenting on. The dark liquid was ominous as it seemed to stare back at me, daring me to try to decipher what was within.
Or perhaps that was the stars. I would be lying if I didn’t admit to fearing their retaliation. What if my experimenting made them angry? I didn’t want them to think I viewed myself as their equal. But I was out of options now.
I would not live my life without my family, even if they did aggravate me to no end. With that thought fresh in my mind, I grabbed the vial, tipped out some of the liquid, and got to work.
“This actually isn’t awful,” Celeste said as she chewed on a bite of her stew. Dad snorted, taking very few moments to breathe between bites.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked my sister, raising a brow.
“It means you’re usually a shit cook,” she shot back, smirking. We hadn’t talked about the argument we had at the apothecary, but that was how things always were when it came to magic. We never addressed it, just moved on instead. That was fine with me, though. This was my last night at home before the shadow ritual. I couldn’t risk leaving on bad terms.
“Like you’re any better! Remember when you forgot you were boiling water and ruined both the fire and the squirrel?”
“You promised never to bring that up!”
“We had to drink broth for dinner!”
“Girls,” Mama chided, a soft smile playing on her lips. Then, right on cue, Death jumped up onto the table and shoved her face into Celeste’s ceramic bowl. Celeste shrieked, trying to shove Death away, and we all burst into laughter.
“It’s good to have one last dinner,” Dad sighed, his words wistful. Silence eagerly gorged on the space, making the air feel empty. My eyes darted down, not wanting to look at any of them. It was no secret that they didn’t want me to attempt the ritual or go to Elite Academy.
They’d rather die and force me to live centuries of time without them.
“We’ll have lots of time after I graduate,” I said, stirring my stew to keep my hands busy.
“You’re right,” Mama spoke, reaching over and grabbing my free hand. Daring to look up, I caught sight of the sorrow in her stormy eyes, a wrinkle forming above her brows that made my stomach ache.
“That’sifyou graduate,” Celeste cut in, giving up and letting Death eat directly from her bowl.
“Celeste!” Dad yelled, making Death jump. She ran, avoiding the conversation like I wished I could. Lucky little creature. “Don’t say such awful things! We will think positively and support Nova.”
