Lara accidentally leaves behind a world of science and gets lost in a realm of enchantment. In this new reality she must adapt to unexpected surprises and face unnatural dangers as she searches for a way home. Before Lara can return to her rightful...
The council consisted of the three elders and his mother, their coven leader. As marvelous as Lienkin felt about all of this, his curiosity pulled him away from the revelry and pushed him toward the private discussion of the council. He tried very hard to overhear them without looking nosey, which was hard to do in such an open space.
"I worry," Leann hissed through her teeth, sending nervous glances toward the moon which seemed so unlike her.
"We can see that," Debol stated. Charity nodded stoically, looking down her nose with the same frowning superiority she showed to uninitiated pupils preparing for their rites. Leann must have gotten the same impression, as she rearranged her expression into one of confidence and control.
"This is truly good news," Margret reasoned. "We are old," she pointed to Debol, Charity and herself, "and your generation has been thoroughly robbed." Now she pointed at Leann causing her brows to rise as if offended. Margret smiled compassionately to soften the blow.
"We all must open our eyes and accept a gift with good graces when the Immortals take the time to give one." Charity advised. It was Debol's turn to nod in agreement. For some reason, the three elders often made him think of the three fates, past present and future, just by the way they were so in tune with one another.
"Priestess, you see as much as we do," Margret spoke again. "Juno hasn't smiled in the seven years since Arieth's death, and she wasn't the only one the war took away from us. Arthur's wife Felicia, my daughter Mitty and her husband Carr Brooks..." When Felicia died, Arthur was left on his own to raise Fartharc and Fantasia. Even with uncle Juno's help, it couldn't have been easy.
"He was my son," Charity interrupted flatly, referring to her deceased son Carr. "And my Rucker, my husband, he died too." Mitty and Carr were Jules parents, Lienkin thought. Poor Jules lost both her mother and father, and had to be raised by her grandparents.
"Not just the young, but the old were taken from us as well." Margret went on. "Our friends Felix Withers and Olivia Lucero. We lost them all." Olivia was Liekin's grandmother on his father's side.
"I know!" Leann gritted, suddenly sounding angry and Lienkin understood why. The only name he was holding his breath waiting to hear, and that they hadn't mention was Alec's. How could they leave out her husband, his father, and their high priest of all people?
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"This is what makes the prophecy a good one," Debol firmly interposed. "Opal has been devastated by one tragedy after another. Remember the plague?" It was a rhetorical question. Lienkin didn't remember it, he was born after it had passed, but he was told it wiped out half the witches in Opal ten years before the war. There were so few families left, their village was hardly a village at all.
"The point is," he went on, "we have been reduced to such small numbers. How else will Opal survive if we shun the Immortals blessing? Look at your children." Lienkin's heart skipped a beat as he felt their eyes dart to him for a brief moment. He kept his eyes carefully averted, his face angled away from the council meeting.
"They are just children," Leann responded, pushing her long pepper brown hair behind her shoulder and smiling as if they were talking about something much more inconsequential. Lienkin felt the smallest itch of irritation.
"They grow fast," Margret pointed out. Yes, we do. Lienkin thought. He wasn't a child anymore, and they were going to have to realize that sooner or later.
"Furthermore, there are only five of them, and already three are full witches." Leann couldn't argue with Debol's facts. When she said nothing, Charity took over using her lecture voice which was usually reserved for coven initiations.
"Let's get right down to it. Fartharc Succio is the oldest, and everyone knows he wants to marry the Dohis girl." Leann opened her mouth to make an objection but Charity held up her hand against interruptions as she continued. "But the Dohis girl wants your son, Lienkin." This time Lienkin wanted to object but couldn't risk revealing the fact he'd been eaves dropping.
"Let us make some assumptions," Leann chimed in smoothly. "If we assume Lienkin marries Tres, then, similarly assume Fartharc marries your granddaughter Jules Brooks, I fail to see the problem. They are all so close in age, after all Jules will initiate soon. Why don't we focus instead on how dangerous it could be to bring a stranger into our village? That is what the prophecy is about."
All three elders were shaking their heads to disagree. In spite of himself, Lienkin was shaking his head in disagreement as well. "That's not good enough," Charity said.
"Where does that leave Fantasia?" Margret asked.
"And what if Fartharc and Jules don't want to marry each other?" Debol questioned. What if I don't want to marry Tres? Lienkin thought. Did none of them consider his wants?
"What if they do?" Leann returned.
"Even if they do," Debol conceded on a heavy sigh, "that still leaves the next generation with two couples and one spinster. Opal cannot continue on this course." Lienkin wasn't sure if he should pity or envy the one of them that ended up the spinster.
"I see," Leann responded after a lengthy pause. "So it is settled, we welcome the prophecy." She plastered a fake smile on her face and whether they bought it or not, each of the elders kissed her forehead. The meeting was over.
