Page 6 of When Wishes Bleed

The heads of the Houses stopped and turned to face me once again.

“Today is my seventeenth birthday.”

Ela’s jaw ticked. Grandmother knew what I wanted, and she didn’t want me to have it.

I clenched the muscles around my stomach and ribs. “I claim the House of Fate.”

Ethne started toward me, stopped only by Bay’s outstretched hand – again. “The House of Fate has not been occupied since your mother’s death. It’s practically uninhabitable,” she growled. Her flaming robe licked at Bay’s hand, but never burned him.

“I am of age to claim it,” I asserted, “and as Fate’s chosen, now that I am of age, it is my right to do so.”

Wayra cleared her throat, pushing her colorless hair behind her ears. “Claiming your inheritance will not entitle you to a seat in the Circle.”

Yet, I wanted to add.

I glared at her until the silent wind surrounding her roared. Even so, I refused to back down. She turned to her peers. “We can forbid it,” she suggested. “We can demolish the House.”

Bay stepped forward, his dark robes thrashing in Wayra’s blustery fury. “Demolishing the House would weaken the Circle. We draw some power from the residue of spells worked inside its walls. For that reason, we cannot demolish it. And, as Sable is the rightful heir, she is within her rights to claim the House as her own.” Ethne boiled and opened her mouth to spew her hatred as a caldera did lava. Bay put a hand up to stop her and continued, “But, we do not have to recognize it as anything more than a structure, and continue to reap the benefits of having the House remain intact. The House of Fate was stripped when Cyril died, as was the House’s Circle seat. It is a building constructed of wood and stone, nothing more.”

I expected Ela to continue the fight, but was surprised when she said, “Let her claim it, then. And let it be known that the accursed will no longer be welcome in any of our Houses.”

I stifled a smile. I had never been welcomed inside them and wasn’t welcome now, so literally nothing would change.

Grandmother felt that it would have been better if I’d never been born. I’d always seen the truth of it in her eyes. She was waiting to witness the day Fate turned on me and called for my life instead of asking me to take or change someone else’s. After all, she’d told the story a hundred times with me in earshot, of the day Cyril crossed Fate and how he rose against her. The way she swung from a rope she’d somehow secured and hoisted herself.

My grandmother’s hazel eyes, for all the warm tones they contained, were cool as she dismissed me, glancing among her peers for their opinions on the matter.

In the end, the Circle decreed the House mine. I could repair it as needed, decorate it as I liked, and would reside in it – alone. And it would only ever serve as a residence. Never again would the House of Fate be represented in The Gallows’ Circle.

Not that it made sense. What could my mother have done to anger Fate so much that he would kill her? And what did she do to the Circle, to her own mother, to make them so angry with her?

Bay called my name as I turned to leave them in the Center. “See that you carry Fate’s plan out swiftly on this night. We should not mar the Equinox longer than necessary.”

I’d never drawn out a hanging, and I wouldn’t do so tonight. I wanted it over as much as everyone else. Well, everyone except the one who would hang.

Instead of telling him that, I inclined my head. Perhaps I could sweet-talk Fate into allowing me to hang the young man in the wood, away from the eyes of our visitors. Surely, he could make that concession.

A young girl from the House of Earth emerged from the woods, robes hiked around her calves, her steps fueled by fear. My stomach sank. “Priestess Ela!” she shrieked, her voice jolting with her steps. “Priestess!”

My grandmother turned to receive her with open arms, gifting the young witch with kindness she’d never bestowed upon me. She nearly knocked Ela down, but threw quivering arms around my grandmother, panting against her as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Priestess, a witch is dead. On the border,” she stuttered. “It’s Harmony, from the House of Fire.”

Ethne gasped, racing just above the earth toward our border with Twelve.

Nausea coiled in my stomach as Fate confirmed that the girl who’d visited me earlier had indeed ignored his warning and made the wrong choice. My marrow ached for her. I closed my eyes and whispered a wish for her soul to separate and move on to the Goddess.

I turned my attention to the one I knew was responsible for her death. His hair was the color of wet sand, and he had twin dimples the murdered girl wanted nothing more than to see aimed at her.

On this eve, the witches will be avenged, Fate whispered.

Suddenly, the anxiousness I’d felt since he told me I would have to execute someone on this day faded away into a glorious, satisfying burn that I knew would soon be quenched. Justice would be meted out tonight. And not only would I make him pay, I’d send a strong message to anyone else in the sectors who even for a second considered harming one of our own.

3

Every House was somber as preparations began for the Equinox celebration. The Affinity Battle that was supposed to be resurrected today for the festivities was cancelled.

The young witch’s body had been prepared by her House. As she was from the House of Fire, she would be laid on the altar of flame, and fire would guard her until Ethne instructed it otherwise. The witches of The Gallows would mourn her throughout the day, and then flames would consume her body at daybreak.

I attempted to pay my respects to her, but Ethne, true to her word, referred to me as the accursed and refused to accept me into her House. So, I watched from the steps of the House of Fate as witches from House after House lined up and filed into Ethne’s home to honor their fallen sister.

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