Page 79 of Scars Like Wings

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t believe so. Grimoires are far from specific to only witches. Just about any supernatural being can have them. They are books of wisdom passed through families. That wisdom isn’t just spells, runes, hexes, and curses. It can be shifting secrets to make the initial change easier, elemental tricks for communicating with nature better, you name it.”

Just about any supernatural being. That phrase didn’t fail to escape my notice. I didn’t know much about grimoires, but I knew that humans didn’t have magic ones like the one in my arms.Was I not human—?I did my best to shrug it off and keep going. I could deal with my feelings later. We needed information now to find answers.

I pressed on. “If this is a family book—a grimoire—then why are the pages blank? Shouldn’t I at least be able to read them?”

“I do not know how or why, but a very complex and powerful cloaking spell was placed on the book. Some other things were added as well. I cannot make out the full details or anything as witches rarely leave those and fitches,especially,notoriously do not. But I can tell that the spell was recent, the fitch was powerful, and they were rushed for some reason. The spell has a desperate tenacity to it, like someone wanting to fulfill a dying wish before someone moves on to the next plane from this one.”

I clutched the book close to me. A feeling gnawed deep that hit too close. “Well, speaking of fitches, can you tell us more about them? Why doesn’t the Archive stock their books downstairs? What happened to them?”

“Ah. Now, that is a good question. And a great tale. It will require tea. Join me?”

Isidora gestured with an open arm to the low table surrounded by sitting pillows. The four of us sat down at the table, sitting cross-legged on the pillows. I sat the book down on the table near me. A teapot on a cloud of orange-yellow stardust floated over the table’s center. It was gorgeous, painted with swirls and filigrees of ultramarine blue against a smooth white ceramic. Its handle was made of real gold, as was the top of the pot. I knew from countless times of sitting up here with Izzy as she told stories, we read together, or she listened to my rambles that it was her favorite tea set. A gift that Journee had given her on their wedding and bonding day. Steam came from its spout with steeped tea inside. It waited above the table patiently as four matching cups settled in front of each of us. The rest of the set followed with a bowl of sugar cubes and a carafe of creamer landing on the table. With our cups before us, the teapot served our tea before settling in the table’s center near the sugar bowl and creamer. We each prepared our teas and quietly enjoyed it for a moment before Izzy cleared her throat and began.

“Among supernaturals, you have many types. Vampires, those creatures that need energy or life to survive. Shifters, those who are connected with the primal and duality of nature. Fae and their ilk who are in sync with nature and can coax her to bend. Witches, who can use their humanity to work with or against nature, pulling power from their own will. There are others like orcs and poltergeists, but the main supernatural groups are plentiful, powerful, and capable of creation and destruction, of beauty and disaster.

“With this power, many of the Old Ones thought it best to find ways to reign in and control. They sought balance. Sunlight and starvation, human forms with weaknesses, and feelings and spells. For creatures that proved too powerful for these weaknesses, they got crafty and cruel. The Old Ones believed in snuffing out a problem before it began or got worse. So was the curse with witch-fae.

“Witch-fae are the product of a union between a fairy and a witch. The child has the will of a human witch and can coax nature like a fairy. They do not get tired when they use too much magic like witches because they can pull from nature if she allows. They are intuned with their feelings because they have their witch side. Add to this that both sides of a witch-fae amplify each other like a feedback loop, and you have a spellcasting creature that is damn near invincible.

“The Old Ones were frightened of them. So, they did what any group of old men do when their power is threatened by what they couldn’t contain: demonize, ostracize, wage war, and commit genocide.”

“Wow, great to know that this isn’t just a human thing. Patriarchy ruins things for supernaturals, too,” Maisie said, earning a smile from Izzy.

“Indeed, my dear, it does. With this campaign, the Old Ones hunted the witch-fae down in an attempt to eradicate them. When that failed, they stigmatized them and drove a wedge between witches and fae that lasted for millennia.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about this in covens and my courses,” Maisie said, her eyes sparking like they always do when she has her brain in academic mode. “Fae used to frown on witches, thinking they were lesser versions of fairies, and witches thought Fae were like super-suprematists.”

Izzy nodded. “Exactly. Your generation and the ones beyond are the first to begin accepting supers as equals across the board.But your parents’ generation weren’t so level-headed. Fitches still exist now, but not so prevalently as they did in the past. They are ignored and blatantly discriminated against at all levels of society. They are effectively endangered, othered. So, the Archive wants to protect them.

“We keep books on fitches and their history locked in the Vaults along with books on Archaics since a fitch is one of the few still able to read, study, and create them?—”

“Wait, witches can’treadArchaics? I thought witches just couldn’t make them like Rhois said. They can’t read them either?”

Isidora shook her head to Maisie’s question. “The magic is too powerful and old for them to even try to access. It is like the difference between trying to power a whole house using triple A batteries and trying to do so using a large generator with solar panels and wind turbines. A witch, while formidable, cannot handle that kind of power. If a witch tried to read an Archaic, their power would simply short out and nothing would happen.”

“So. What does it mean if I can read Archaics?”

My eyes widened. Everything seemed to stop. The tension was so thick it was suffocating and I could hardly swallow around it. It felt like we were holding our breath. Maisie was so tense between me and Simone. I could feel her coiled energy radiating off of her, like a rubber band stretched to its limit and ready to pop. Her hands were fists on the table. Her eyes were locked on Isidora, the only being still in motion as she peacefully sipped her tea.

If I knew Isidora at all, I knew that she had been expecting this question and wasn’t at all surprised.

“What does that mean?” Maisie asked.

“Maze had that reaction,” I asked, finally able to speak, but it was only slightly above a whisper as I voiced my thoughts out loud. “Could that mean—? Does that mean?—?”

Isidora sat her tea down and locked eyes with Maisie. They were full of empathy for my best friend and her plight. “I’m so sorry, Marceline. What you are thinking is the truth. Fitches have magic like witches, and it manifests as witch magic. So, it is possible for a fitch to go their whole lives being none the wiser to the truth or even knowing about the existence of witch-fae. The fact that you could read the Archaic and see it was enough proof. However, accessing it unlocked your true nature. The spell on the Archaic to ensure the safety of the grimoire has special defenses put in place to maintain its security. That is why you had the reaction that you did when you tried to use it to locate the source of the Archaic. It was fighting back. You absorbed the brunt of the spell’s attack and somehow turned that around to manifest and reveal yourself to you and your friends. It’s very complicated magic and spellwork, but the fact that you are still alive is a testament to your power. ”

“Oh, my gods,” Simone said.

“So… I’m …” Maisie trailed off as the news sunk in. Simone and I each grabbed one of her hands and scooched to be shoulder-to-shoulder. She swayed against us. Her world had been turned upside down in such a short amount of time. I totally knew that feeling. Still, she squeezed our hands as we gave her a second to cope with the news.

But there was one more thing that was nagging in the back of my brain. “But what about that pulse that I felt? The magic that both MaisieandI felt? Why didn’t Simone feel it? What was that?”

“This grimoire is yours, Byrd. It’s connected to you. It sought you out because it thought you were ready for it. It even asked you if you were. Do you remember how we have talked about your crystals going missing in the past and returning in a place that seemed strange but not enough to be concerned with? Thisgrimoire disappeared from your family about fifteen years ago and here it is. Just like your crystals.”

Wait.

Fifteen years?

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