Southern Charms

The Great Deceiver

The house was a tomb. The absence of shouting and laughter and warmth and all the things that made this place a home turned it into a somber place I didn't recognize. I suppose it had been like that for awhile now, but with so many things on my mind, I never gave it much thought until I escaped within its walls for comfort. To find none waiting.

"Clemmy," I called out, hoping she'd pop in from wherever she was hiding with Caly.

I'd not seen or heard from her, but she was Clemmy. It was a given that she was okay. A shiver went down my neck. She had to be okay.

I considered going back outside but was too afraid of the small chance Ash had only hidden and not left. The thought thrilled and terrified me. I wanted him to fight for us. To fight for the future we'd only just started to hope for before my father woke up.

'Just promise me you'll give me a chance.'

It wasn't fair for me to want that. I was the one who threw it away. He would be furious with me for acting as if I was alone in all of this, but Malphas had made my choice almost impossible. I was lucky to get him to agree to any of my terms. Maybe Ash had once been my future but no longer. I wouldn't drag him into the dark days ahead just to make myself feel better.

Sliding into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, I closed my eyes and imagined my family standing around its edges planning a wedding. Or sitting next to me passing food or whispering secrets.

Generations of Wych witches had been born in this house- the old passing their wisdom to the young, and I wondered if one of them had felt this moment coming. Had it come to them in a dream? Had they known it was a possibility because of the deal our ancestor made with a demon? The one that introduced the gift of Siphoning to our bloodline? Could Malphas have been lying?

Sighing, I pulled the necklace- the Praesadium- from my neck and stared at it. All it would take is a bit of force, and it would break, releasing my power back to me. I closed my eyes to see if I remembered what it felt like. Taken from me at three, it was nothing more than a hazy memory. One I'd put off as wishful thinking, but now that I knew it was true, it came back to me slowly. That sensation of warm honey in my veins and a perfect sweetness on my tongue.

That was what Malphas wanted me to do. He was betting on my desire to be like everyone else to win out over my desire to thwart him at any cost. Without this magic, I was useless to him, which was ironic, really. For years, I'd felt that way around my family. As if I was lacking in some way because I couldn't light a flame with a thought or call upon the elements to do my bidding, but now it was that deficiency that might save us all. It made me laugh.

"What's so funny?"

I jumped, almost dropping the Praesadium. My father leaned against the dining room door, his arms crossed over his chest. There a gauntness in his features and frame that only rest and food would cure, but he was alive.

"Daddy," I cried out, running into his arms. It wasn't until he put them around me that I realized I truly believed I would never feel his touch again.

"Don't cry, pumpkin."

"Everything is so wrong. So, so wrong. But I'm so glad you're okay."

He cupped my face and pressed a kiss against my forehead. "I was never worried about me, but maybe I shouldn't have been worried about you. You beat them, Rose. Without magic."

His approval crashed over me like a storm fueled ocean wave, dragging me down with the weight of emotions until I struggled to breathe. When I found my voice, I told him the truth, and he listened, his expression impassive. Only when I finished, did he sigh as he sank into a chair.