Suppliant

  Chapter 36

  The sun is just starting to rise on the beach as we get there. Damien and Zeke start unloading the supplies and are setting up, so I plop down on the log and enjoy the view, letting Silver roam around the beach.

  I wonder what the tests will prove. I know that my powers are growing rapidly, but have any new ones manifested? How many powers did I have before all of this? I know that they are hereditary which will help me narrow down who my father could be.

  It’s all so confusing. I catch myself longing to have my simple life back, but I would rather have it this way than to go on knowing that my parents aren’t really my parents. I wonder what would have happened if I had never found out I was adopted.

  I probably would have gone to college and gotten a professional job, maybe as a librarian. I would have never suspected that there were magical creatures living among us, or that I was one of them. I would have fallen in love and married a wonderful man. I would have settled down in a nice home in the suburbs with a white picket fence.

  I would have spent my time raising kids and enjoying life. That is something that I can’t think about now. I don’t know what the future holds, but it can’t be children and a white picket fence.

  After this is over, I still have to deal with the fact that I’m essentially married, in the magical community, to two men. How can I make a relationship work with both of them? How can I have children and live happily ever after with both of them? I can’t.

  There will come a time when I have to choose. Just the thought of cutting one of them out of my life hurts. I can’t bear to lose either one of them. They both mean too much to me now.

  “We better get started,” Zeke says, interrupting my musings.

  I look up at Damien’s offered hand and take it.

  “We’re going to run a full battery of magical testing on you. I’m not going to lie; it’s going to be rough.” Zeke is looking at the ground. Is that nervousness I detect?

  “Don’t worry about me; I can handle it.” I try to sound tough. I realize that they were going to worry about me regardless, and it’s pointless to tell them otherwise.

  “Clear your mind. Damien is going to be your test subject. Stand by him and close your eyes. Keep your focus and tell me what you feel.” Zeke is giving the monotone instructions.

  I take a step toward Damien and close my eyes. For a minute, I feel nothing. I start to think about how pointless this activity is when I feel a wave of love wash over me. It is deep love and admiration. I feel fear being mixed in. Fear of losing someone.

  “Tell me what you feel, Layla,” Zeke demands.

  “Emotions, love. I feel his love for me. I also feel his fear of losing me.” I open my eyes, and Zeke nods at Damien.

  My eyes close as I feel the emotions change. Rage pours through me. It’s intense. I have never felt an emotion that strongly.

  “And now?” questions Zeke.

  “Rage. I want to kill someone.” I open my eyes and start to feel a small drain on my powers. It’s like a chink in my mental armor.

  I’m surprised to feel an emotional drain. I know that they both have warned me numerous times, but I figured I would be fine. I look at my watch and realize that only ten minutes have passed. I remember Zeke saying that it would take hours, and dread fills me. If each test is like this, I’m going to be wiped out.

  Zeke leads me over to a table filled with bottles of herbs. In the center of the table is a bird with a bandage wrapped around its wing. The bottles are unmarked and open. The scent of the mixed herbs fills my nostrils, drowning out the salty air.

  A quick survey shows that there is water, fresh bandages, and a pestle and mortar present, as well as the herbs.

  “Take the herbs that you need to heal the bird’s wing,” Zeke says. He and Damien step aside to observe.

  I just stare at the table for a few minutes. The poor bird looks miserable. I wonder what happened to its wing. How am I supposed to heal it? I have very little knowledge of herbs.

  Trusting my instincts, I pick up each bottle one at a time and sniff it, placing it carefully back in its spot when I’m finished.

  I see a red open wound where the wing meets the body as I unwrap the bandage. I use some water to wash the wound. I close my eyes and picture the sight before me. I feel my powers slowly fill me and let it do its work.

  My hands are flying back and forth, mixing herbs, crushing them, and making a paste. I apply the herbs to the wing and soothe the cawing bird. I rewrap the wing and step back. Opening my eyes I survey my work. Satisfied that I can do no more, I nod at Zeke and Damien.

  That test will take some time. After we do the others, we need to recheck the wound to see if it has healed.

  “It seems like you are more successful accessing your powers if you close your eyes. Most Witches are. So for the rest of the tests, we will just prompt you,” Damien speaks up.

  Zeke wanders off to prepare for another test as Damien walks with me to the water’s edge.

  “Now I want you to stand ten feet away from the water and bring in the tide,” Damien says. I look at him with a gaping mouth. How am I supposed to control the ocean?

  “Trust yourself, Lay,” Damien reassures me.

  I close my eyes and try to call on my power. This time it’s waiting, filling me when I ask it to. I picture the tide rolling in, wetting my feet. I picture dancing in the water like I used to.

  I lift my feet to kick the splash of the incoming wave. I bend over to pick up the conch shell in the sand.

  My eyes fly open as the water hits my ankles. I look down to see the exact shell I had pictured lying next to me. I pick it up and listen to the sea.

  Damien is smiling at me. He is enjoying himself. I can’t blame him. The beach always puts me in a good mood.

  We join Zeke again, and I pocket the shell. I want to keep it as a reminder of what I can do.

  “Have some water. It’s supposed to be hot out today, and I don’t want to add dehydration to the list of injuries that you have sustained,” Zeke says.

  “Dehydration is not an injury.” I take the bottle from Zeke anyway, relishing the feel of the cool liquid sliding down my throat.

  “Now you’re going to try shifting. Picture yourself as an animal,” Zeke continues.

  I close my eyes again and begin to focus intently. I picture the poor injured bird that I had just tended to. I think about how scared it must have been to see me. If I were the bird I would want to fly. Soar over the beach, enjoy the waves, and feel the wind on my wings.

  I would dodge through the forest, barely missing tree branches and hanging vines. Smell the musty scent, hear the animals moving about. I would fly to my nest and make a swift landing. I would cuddle up and enjoy the sunshine on my feathers.

  I’m in a state of intense concentration. I can feel what it would be like to be a bird. I open my eyes fully expecting to be perched in my nest with a view of the heavens.

  I’m disappointed when I see Damien and Zeke. I must have a creative mind to picture that, but not really experience it. My spirits fall. I could tell by the looks on their faces that I was not able to shift.

  What could I expect? I knew that shifting was something you would get from your parents. I have too many other powers that would eliminate shifting from my heritage.

  “Well, you’re not a shifter, but you do have a very vivid imagination.”

  I blush. Zeke must have been peeking. With my powers being drained, I haven’t been as cautious about my mental wall as I usually am.

  “What’s next? I am starting to feel a slight drain so I will probably be an open book from now on. Please try to refrain from peeking.” I ask for privacy.

  “Next we’re going to try something that you have probably never tried before.” That must be a joke. I have never tried half of this stuff before. I thought that was the whole purpose of the test. I look around and notice that Damien is missing.

 
“Where is Damien?” I question.

  “He left as part of this test. You need to try to call him back to you. If you are successful then he will feel it.” Zeke opens a bottle of water and begins chugging. This heat must be affecting him too.

  “How am I supposed to do that? Do I just call his name?” I open a fresh bottle of water and follow his lead.

  “Just imagine him being here. Reach out with your mind and tell him to come back,” he says. Sure, that sounds easy.

  I take a deep breath and picture Damien. He is standing in front of me, smiling. I could stare at his face all day. I can hear his voice; I can smell him. I open my eyes expecting to see him standing in front of me.

  He isn’t there. I feel overcome. I don’t want to fail. This was a simple task and I didn’t do it. I set my shoulders in determination and attempt again. Shouldn’t our connection allow me to call him back?

  This time I picture the look on his face after Jessice stabbed me. I can see his features change from surprise to outrage when he sees the blood on my fingertips.

  I remember waking up from the vision in his arms. I feel the tingle and burn of his passion. It moves through my veins, lighting a fire that only he can extinguish.

  After ten minutes of feeling for him and trying to call him to me, I open my eyes again to find myself standing alone with Zeke watching. The disappointment hits me again.

  “I failed. I could picture him, smell him, and feel him, but I couldn’t bring him back to me,” I say.

  “It’s okay. I think it would be a good time for you to take a break.”

  I agree with Zeke as I open another bottle of water and take a few minutes to reapply the sunscreen that I put on this morning.

  I look around at the beautiful day. The sun is shining so bright. The light breeze and the sounds of the beach put me in better spirits.

  I take a seat in the sand, and Zeke sits down next to me.

  “You know, it doesn’t make sense. I should have been able to call him because of our connection. I thought that he would come running for sure.” I started picking at my fingers.

  “It does make sense. Damien knows that so he blocked out your connection. He wanted the test to be real.” Zeke pats my hands to calm them.

  “I didn’t know it was possible to block the connection. I guess it makes sense though. I can put up a mental wall to block my thoughts. I guess it’s just an extension of that,” I try to reason. Magic is so unpredictable.

  “Something like that. It’s hard for anyone to do. You have to remember that Damien and I have been training since birth. There are a lot of things that you don’t yet know,” he says.

  It takes Damien another ten minutes to make it back, which is fine with me. I will welcome any break that they give me. They had warned me that it would be taxing, but I thought I would be up for the challenge. They were right; I’m exhausted.

  When Damien speaks, my eyes fly open. I must have snoozed off in the sun. I stretch and stand up.

  “Are you ready to move on? We still have a lot to do today.” Damien looks concerned. I wonder if I am wearing my exhaustion on my proverbial sleeve. Silver licks my shoulder.

  “Let’s get it over with.” I run my hand down Silver’s mane. She really is beautiful. I feel a sense of relief that I don’t have to do this alone. I’m surrounded by love.

  “Now you’re going to try to tell the future. Look at the beach and tell me what’s going to happen next,” Damien stands behind me, making my nerves sear.

  I close my eyes and picture the beach in front of me.

  “A bird will dive from the sky and catch a fish.” I’m not sure where that came from, but it feels right.

  I can hear the splash of the ocean and the flipping of fins. In my mind’s eye, I can see the bird flying off to its nest with a fish in its talons.

  I open my eyes trying to catch a glimpse of it leaving, but the bird isn’t there.

  “It was a memory. I can’t tell the future on demand, only in a vision.” At least this time, it’s easier to accept that I can’t pass this test.

  “That’s one more thing to mark off the list. This gets us closer to discovering who your real parents are, and what you’re capable of,” Damien defends. I’m thankful that Damien hasn’t tried to soothe my disappointment; instead he meets me with understanding.

  For the next test we find a spot in the shade. It’s a combat test. We start out with a fight. During the fight, I’m completely focused for the first time. I can replay every action in my head.

  After the fight, Damien teaches me a new move. I pick up on it very quickly.

  Zeke fights me next. My objective is to use the new move that I learned, which I do successfully. Elation flies through me. It gives me the second wind that I desperately need to continue the testing.

  “Just as I suspected, your muscle memory is amazing. You have the ability to learn combat moves faster than anyone I have ever seen.” Damien’s praise makes me blush.

  “You will be able to beat me soon,” Zeke chimes in.

  “This skill must have come from my father. I know that Witches are not skilled with hand—to--hand combat.” Both boys nod in agreement.

  After the fight we’re all sweaty and physically exhausted. Add that to the mental exhaustion and I’m ready to pass out. Damien clears the table that he used for testing my healing abilities and lays out a picnic.

  It’s nice to sit and talk freely over a meal with them. We talk about whatever we want and push off thoughts of testing. I’m ready to call it quits when Zeke starts repacking the picnic.

  “We need to start on the rest of it. We still have fifteen different skills that we want to either confirm or eliminate.”

  I sigh and help them clear the table.

  The rest of the afternoon drags on. Out of the skills tested I am positive for only four of them: durability, manipulation of objects, superhuman senses, and portal creation.

  The remaining skills are eliminated. After the tests are complete, we create a list of skills that came from my parents.

  My mother passed on Earth powers, communicating with nature, healing, and manipulating objects.

  The skills that must have come from my father are empathy, combat, durability, super human senses, object generation and portal creation.

  “This is still confusing. I know that my mom was a Suppliant, so I have all of the typical witchy skills that she had. But what is my father?” I reached up to massage the sore muscles in my neck.

  “The combat and durability skills could have come from a Protector,” Zeke points out.

  “I think we should focus on portal creation. That skill is very unique and coveted. Normally only the strongest Wizards have it, but they are not good at combat,” Damien argues.

  “Are super human senses common? I have never heard of them before.” It could shed some light on what my father was. Once I know what to look for, it should be easier finding him.

  “They’re not common, nor are they well--documented. We need to do more research before we can give you a definitive answer.” Damien tucks the list in his back pocket and starts packing up.

  The ride back takes forever. The second that I make it in through the door, I pass out, utterly spent.