Fate
and Destiny
Blessed
be.”
Another one of
my mom’s friends.
“Why blessed
be?” I muttered to my father’s grave. My
mother was being laid beside him.
I brushed away
tears, finally having the courage to read her tombstone.
She
was a mother and a friend,
A
wife and a dear,
To
Her she is now being sent,
Her
soul: alive and clear.
“Rose
could always see inside a person.”
Blessed
be.
‘Her?’ Blessed be?
“Who
is ‘She?’” I said aloud as
another woman said goodbye.
“I’m so
sorry,” the woman said. Then,
whispering, “She is the mother goddess. Your
mother was Wicca, you know.”
I stuttered a
laugh and began sobbing harder, “My mom was a witch?
I can believe that.”
I reached
involuntarily toward the woman’s mind and found it was poorly guarded.
The woman was thinking, Poor child.
She has lost her mother and must go to war like a professional.
Her arms look too weak to lift a saber, let alone a whip or bow.
Beatus exsisto to both of them.
The
old lady smiled weakly, “Blessed be.” She
dropped a silver rose onto the grave. The
rose had a star surrounded by a circle engraved in one of its petals.
Above the symbol this was written: ευλογημένος να είστε.
My eyebrows
quivered up and down. “Blessed
be.”
********************************
I
had gotten buckets of attention. There
were people trying to find me relatives – you know the business type – and
my mom’s pitying, Wicca friends. I
felt bad for the other three girls because they had no family left.
It was strange and daunting to be completely orphaned.
Fortunately I had an aunt still alive and willing to take in four
newly orphaned and sibling-less sixteen-year-olds, having a sixteen-year-old son
herself. The other seasons were
willing to stay with me until they found family or someone to live with
permanently.
I sat next to
Autumn on the plane to
I shifted in my
tank top, releasing the seat-back table from its stowed-and-locked place.
Time for food I hoped. Autumn,
on the other hand, was sweating like mad. She
had put on a navy blue ski jacket and a thick gray shirt to hide the squirrel
clinging to her back. She couldn’t
stand leaving the little guy after he had helped out so much.
“Raincloud
has a steel grip and a tick infested pelt and he is sticking to me like glue.”
I heard muffled
squeaks from inside the jacket and Autumn laughed as though he had cracked a
joke.
A perky flight
attendant was tossing peanuts and drinks out.
“What would
you like?”
“Mountain
Dew.”
Snatch.
Pour. Clink.
She handed me the fizzing drink and some peanuts.
“And for…
you?” She glanced doubtfully at
the jacket.
“Same.”
Autumn smiled and said, “And can I have two packets of peanuts?
Just once?” She looked
pleadingly at the woman.
“Sure,
sweetie.” I laid back shaking.
My parents were both dead.
My father’s
death had prepared me for the dark future. It
had weakened me, for I was only seven. Seven
was the age of brains. Of memory.
And so I remembered and understood. I
had understood death at seven.
A choked sob released from my throat.
I glanced at
Autumn’s face. It was a reflection
of mine. Puffy eyes, a tear stained
face, and a red nose. I sniffed and
stifled a giggle as Autumn dropped a peanut down her back, allowing the poor
squirrel to eat.
I thought about
that religion, Wicca. I had heard of
it before in books, but not in real life.
“Of course
it’s real,” Autumn told me when I asked.
“It’s the 5th largest religion in the
“How was I
supposed to know that?” I muttered pulling my purse out.
I reached in and withdrew a mirror. My
blond hair shimmered red in the light, although tousled and frizzy.
I brushed it to a glossy shine.
I was
relatively pretty. OK…
So I was really beautiful as most told me, and usually popular because of my
looks. My eyes were a dazzling
inhuman green that everyone seemed to like.
Also my height was, well, high. I
could look everyone I knew in the eye, besides basketball players and midget
shrimps. I smiled fully glossed lips
and perfect teeth while admiring my three ear piercing.
The lowest one held a golden sun, while the one directly above it carried
a silver moon. On the very top there
was a rainbow hoop that gave me a more hippie look than I had asked for.
“Expressive,”
Autumn said admiringly.
She was pretty,
but generally plain. Her ears were
not pierced and her neck held a plain, silver heart-shaped locket.
But then again, she was wearing an unattractive ski jacket at the end of
summer.
“Thank you
very much,” I replied, Elvis style.
I closed the
mirror, stowed it away and fell asleep, only to be attacked by vicious dreams.
“You did this.”
“Aye, I did and have and will.”
“You have no right to be in my home, let alone murder my husband!
I thought we had a deal?!”
“I don’t follow the rules.”
“Just leave my daughter be.”
“Wine. Her blood will taste
like the purest wine.”
“Let her GO!”
“Would you rather I kill her, too?”
Silence.
“Take my blood.”
“Ah, this is quite a decision…”
“I have decided.”
“Not your decision, woman –” a scream –“Mine.”
“Just take my blood and leave, Mikal!”
“C’mon, Venus… Not
having fun?” A wicked laugh.
“My torment is not for my daughter to see, she is seven.”
“She will not have memory of this sight, but she has more senses…”
“Five more she will learn to control and destroy vampires forever!”
A laugh.
“At night the stars light a little.
In the day there are shadows. Light
reminds us that day will come soon. Shadows
warn us night will return. For every
laugh, there is a sob. Vampires are
part of every tear that roll down a cheek. Every
laugh is directed by a good witch. The
balance is still. Corrupt
Destruction.”
“Corrupt destruction?! That’s
nonsense.”
“Some day, Goddess…”
I jumped up,
sweaty and frightened.
“Ma’am,
please pull your seat back in upright position for landing.”
I glanced at
the old woman giving me a sympathetic smile.
I smiled a weak smile back and pulled my chair up by pressing the silver
button on the arm of the chair. I
looked over at Autumn who was finishing off a sudoku puzzle in the Sky
Miles magazine.
Without looking
up she said, “You were out cold, Summer.”
“Yeah.”
I took a soothing breath in and out.
“Ready to
meet your aunt?”
“Yeah,” I
repeated, smoothing back frazzled reddish hair.
The plane
jolted as it hit the ground. It was
enough to knock the pen out of Autumn’s left hand.
She muttered a few words, and the fountain pen fluttered back into her
outstretched palm.
I stared in
shock, “Did you just…”
“Yeah,” she
grinned. Her amber eyes met mine,
“I figured it out when you were sleeping.
It’s really cool, isn’t it?”
“What did you
say?” I asked in pure wonder, never
taking my jade eyes off the pen.
“Adeo
mihi.” Autumn smiled at me,
eyes wide. “I think it’s Latin.
It just came out… I have
never heard it before in my life!” She
was instantly interrupted by the PA.
“Thank
you for flying Air Bird.”
Autumn
threw on her backpack and I did the same. We
both stood in the aisle for at least thirty minutes until everyone had exited
the plane. We met up with Spring and
Winter, who were at the front of the plane, and found them arguing.
“He was
looking at me!”
Spring’s perfect face was bright red and she was waving her arms
violently.
“In your
dreams,” Winter retorted. Winter
wasn’t red or getting violently excited: she was leaning against the wall,
coolly, and smiling.
Autumn grabbed
both of their arms and started dragging them to the luggage-pick-up place.
We walked quickly, worried we were holding up our “aunt.”
Within a few minutes of waiting, we noticed our luggage wasn’t coming.
“Shoot,” Spring cried, “My Gucci and
Prada were in there!”
We all gave her
a sideways glance until we noticed a woman approaching us.
She had medium long gold-gray hair and deep brown eyes.
She had a kind smile pasted on her face and she was pulling two large
suitcases behind. She was followed
by a boy, about our age with deep brown hair and brilliant blue eyes.
The slightly old looking woman was fairly tall, and she wore what looked
like a modernized toga. Her son –
I guessed – was sort of tall like his mother and pretty good-looking.
He wore jeans, sandals and a plain red T-shirt.
“Aunt?”
I tried.
“Yes and no
– hello! Hello!”
She smiled broadly to show perfect teeth.
Her son smiled,
his sapphire eyes darting from me to Autumn.
“Who needs
purses? He’s
enough for me,” Spring murmured.
I shifted in my
black top and stifled a laugh. My
shirt tied behind my neck, under my bundles of red-gold hair.
It showed lots of back, including the tattoo I had just above my rear
end. It was a flowery design with
summer colors to remind me of my name.
“Hi.”
The boy smiled at me. “I’m
Ryan.”
“Summer,” I
replied in a light, flirtatious voice. We
awkwardly shook hands.
The other girls
shook hands with him, all of us smiling those fake just-take-the-picture-already
smiles we do for the yearbook.
“My car’s
up front,” Aunt what’s-her-name told us with a clap of her hands.
“OK,” we
chorused in bland and uninterested voices.
Ryan grinned at
Spring who was tripping all over herself trying to look good as we started
walking together in a tangled mob.
“I can drive
Summer and Winter – since I have their suitcases,” Ryan said sweetly.
I smiled, but
remained silent.
“Rosalie is
my aunt –” he motioned to the old, smiling woman as we exited the
airport–“and you’re her ‘adopted’ nieces.”
Winter and I
froze in our tracks.
“Adopted?”
He continued
walking casually toward a teal Porsche, “Your mom wanted Rosalie to guide your
magic.”
Winter and I
glanced at each other.
“We each have
a mom,” Winter started – remembering what he had said.
Ryan flashed
white teeth at us and said, “There is a lot you need to learn on our way to
Tillamook.”
In the car, we
learned we were Goddesses born on earth by the main Wicca Goddess’s… parts.
That’s why they all died at the same time.
Each of our moms was a part of Her, but the Goddess herself never
departed with life. She kept our
births a secret. One of our mothers
was Her “Pure but not an angel” part, another Her “Dark but not evil”
side, and the other two were Her “Believe but not to extreme” and “Wise
but misunderstood” sides. Ryan
admitted he and his aunt could not yet figure out who was who, but they knew the
Dark One would become a vampire, the Pure One would destroy the evil, the Wise
One would trick and betray, and the Faithful One would die saving the other.
They did not know who the ‘other’ was.
I had the power
to manipulate minds and do telepathy, read minds, and destroy memories.
Autumn had the power to speak to animals, control plants, and – with
the animal’s consent – morph into the animal of choice.
Spring could grow wings, heal internal and external wounds, and speak to
all flying creatures. Winter could
turn invisible and turn other things invisible, make things (including herself
and others) turn ghostlike – go through things, though they cannot fly – and
make things unseen to human eyes visible.
“How will I
see the invisible things in the first place?” Winter protested, slightly
amazed on all the things we could do.
Greg switched
lanes before responding, “When you are invisible you can see invisible things.
Simple as that.”
I excitedly
slipped into Winter’s mind. Her
mind was nearly completely blank, so I began to flip through her memories.
Winter’s strongest thoughts at the moment were how she missed
“Stop it.”
My eyes focused
and I found Winter glaring at me.
“I can feel
you in my mind, Summer.” She
rolled her eyes, then smiled.
I smiled back
and blushed about getting caught.
My eyes drifted
to the window.
“We’re
here,” Ryan hopped out before the car stopped moving and swung our doors open.
I smiled at
him, but Winter responded with “I have arms” and a glare as she shoved the
door shut.
Ryan ignored
her and gave us a cheerful tour of the house.
It was a large Victorian style house with a huge living room, kitchen,
den, attic, dining room, computer room, and four bedrooms.
Autumn and I were going to share a room and Winter and Spring were going
to share one. My side of the room
was a deep green with colorful flowers painted all over the walls, floors, and
bed. Autumn’s side looked like
fall, Spring’s like spring, and Winter’s like winter.
Somehow that didn’t surprise me: they had been expecting us.
Autumn, Spring,
and Rosalie arrived and soon everyone was settled in.
Autumn and I sat on our beds transferring a pencil around the room.
“Adeo
mihi.” The pencil fluttered
into my hand for the fifth time. Before
Autumn could repeat the phrase my mouth shot open involuntarily and I hollered,
“Surculus!”
The pencil
swerved around so its point was to Autumn and it threw itself at her.
“Matris
Dea of astrum, succurro mihi!” Autumn
cried in response. The backs of her
hands flew up to protect her face, and her ruby ring sent out a fiery light that
deflected the pencil.
“Oh my
God!” I paused.
“Oh my Goddess! I’m so
sorry! Did you get hurt?
Oh my Goddess, I’m sorry.” That came out stupid sounding, I thought.
“Night of the
killer pencils,” Autumn shook her head in shock.
I picked up a
thick Latin-English dictionary that Rosalie had given us and looked up every
word we had said, hands shaking in rhythm to Autumn’s nail biting.
Adeo
mihi: ‘To approach me’ = come to me
Matris
Dea of astrum, succurro mihi:
‘Mother Goddess of star, to run up under me’ = Mother Goddess of the stars,
protect me
Surculus:
Shoot = shoot
I explained all
this to Autumn, whose mouth hadd started to hang open.
“I never knew
– and still don’t know – Latin. It’s
not possible I can speak it so… fluently.”
I shrugged in
disbelief, and stole a glance at the black digital clock across from our beds.
Its red numbers flashed
“I’m going
to bed,” I said with a yawn.
“Ditto –
I’d probably wake you up anyways.” Autumn
flicked off the light and I pulled my sheets and covers up close. I’d
probably wake you up anyways? What
did that mean? I closed my eyes and
instantly fell into a dream.
Operor
non metuo,
Illic
est nusquam ut irreverens,
Decor
of mane dies mico hic,
Diluculo
est ortus,
Gramen
est viridis,
Nos
sentio a presentia: velieris turpis…
Do
not be frightened,
There's
nothing to fear,
The
beauty of morning, bright, is now here,
Dawn
is rising,
The
grass is green,
We
feel a presence: hidden unseen…
“Mom?”
I jumped up, throwing a surprised Ryan off balance.
“Just a
dream,” Ryan told me, smiling that dorky smile of his.
“Aunt’s makin’ pancakes.”
I dragged
myself into the bathroom. After
taking a shower, drying my hair and putting it is a long braid, changing and
putting on makeup, I came down for breakfast.
That haunting song my mother… Goddess… gave me as a music box, played
over and over in my head.
Ryan and the
others began to give me a funny look the instant I walked into the room.
I was wearing extreme low-cut
black jeans. I straightened my
sparkling, green top and tested the knot behind my neck that held the shirt in
place. Tight.
I remembered my glance in the mirror.
Green eye shadow and body glitter around my cheeks with silver-green hoop
earrings. I knew my mascara hadn’t
dripped, so I questioned the group, “What?”
Spring wore a
summer-style, short blue dress. Two
cheerleader blue ribbons held her pigtails of blond hair in tact.
“You’re murmuring something over and over in a humming-style… It
sounds beautiful whatever it is,” Spring said with a shrug.
“I don’t get it.”
“I know that
song,” Rosalie called out from the kitchen.
I heard a pancake hit the pan after being flipped and wondered how the
old woman had heard from way over there. “It’s
called Phasmatis of Diluculo, Ghost of Dawn.
The ‘presence’ in the song refers to the Goddess, misinterpreted as a
ghost.
Operor
non metuo,
Illic
est nusquam ut irreverens,
Decor
of mane dies mico hic,
Diluculo
est ortus,
Gramen
est viridis,
Nos
sentio a presentia: velieris turpis…
Do
not be frightened,
There's
nothing to fear,
The
beauty of morning, bright, is now here,
Dawn
is rising,
The
grass is green,
We
feel a presence: hidden unseen…
“Interesting
you should know it, or part of it. It
was sung to the sacrifice that was being given to the Goddess.”
I gulped up
some scrambled eggs sitting on the plate in front of me.
“My mother sang that to me.”
Ryan and Winter
spurted up eggs laughing. Winter
wore baggy black pants and a tight black shirt and Ryan wore jeans and a yellow
T-shirt in the same plain fashion as usual.
“Your mom was
going to sacrifice you… to herself?” Spring
asked, numbly horrified.
Rosalie laughed
a shrill laugh as she walked in with the pancakes.
She placed mine on the small porcelain plate next to my egg-plate. “It
also is sung to the electus unus, the chosen one.”
We sat in dumb
silence, eating our breakfast swiftly.
Spring gasped.
Even without mind-reading powers I could tell her mind had wandered from
the subject. “Are we sisters?”
“Oh my…”
Winter held her head in her hands, overwhelmed by Spring’s ignorance.
Autumn laughed.
Her hair was in a side-ponytail, gentle brown curls cascading down the
front of her golden dress. Like
Spring, Autumn’s dress was a summer dress, and except for the fact that fiery
colors of autumn dotted the dress, the two dresses seemed the same.
“When are we
starting school here?” I asked to
keep Winter from attacking Spring.
“Tomorrow,”
Rosalie said with a shrug.
Our forks
clattered to the table, “What?!”
Ryan grinned at
us, “We’ve been expecting you, ya know.
We prepared.”
