Page 93 of The Child of Rue Royale
Finally, her hand frames her mouth, inching it up to Bastian’s listening ear, and she whispers, “When the sun can shine on the vampire. And the witch is tied to the pyre. The child of Rue Royale will set you free, with his aventurine eyes of a visionary.”
It’s like I’ve been thrown across the world, the magnitude of the vision quaking through my body. I open my eyes, still tied to the pyre, as Bastian waits for my cue, the determination in his eyes striking me to the core. I think of Grandma’s words. How I spent the last year so weak and lost, hiding, scrambling, bowing at the mercy of the coven. I’ve been bound long enough. I’m taking my power back now.
The rhythm of Grandma’s words, the cadence, tells me it’s to be yelled out loud, so I do. I scream it out to the heavens, so the angels themselves can hear, I shout it with everything that I am.
“When the sun can shine on the vampire, and the witch is tied to the pyre, the child of Rue Royale will set you free, with his aventurine eyes of a visionary!”
My screaming alerts Rosemary and Violetta, and they both turn toward me just as something sparks in the corner of my vision.
A neon green glow emits from Aven’s eyes, brighter than an orb, brighter than a green ball of fire, like he’s possessed. His eyes swirl in the color of his namesake but darken into a deep emerald, the two glowing pools expanding.
Aventurine eyes of a visionary.
My thoughts run into each other, trying to figure out what it all means.
Aven’s eyes have caught the attention of Rosemary and Violetta, and it’s my grandmother’s spell. When the sun can shine on the vampire and the witch is tied to the pyre, the child of Rue Royale will set you free, with his aventurine eyes of a visionary.
Aven is a child of Rue Royale with his aventurine eyes wide open, casting a green glow out into the sky, projecting a neon square, and inside it, footage of a countdown from ten begins to roll as if we are watching a movie on a screen in the sky.
“Mom?” I whisper, my eyes on the sky, my stomach rolling. Wanting her to wake up now more than ever. Her eyes blink slowly, her head pulling up to the bright glow in the sky.
The fire on my pyre suddenly extinguishes, and a rush of relief sends words flying to my mom. “Mother, look up!” And she squints, assessing where she is, and the bright green glow in the sky.
“What is that?” Chantal shouts, sitting up in the grass, finger-pointing above.
Footage begins rolling inside the neon square like it was filmed on a vintage camera. But an old movie isn’t cast onto this screen in the sky, no, it’s footage of Violetta and Rosemary, inside a spell room, with rows and rows of tinctures and herbs behind them. They sit at Violetta’s wide workstation, Rosemary’s fingers rifling through a spell book.
“I don’t feel the least bit guilty, Violetta. She had the affair. The coven won’t want her to die because the rule is archaic, and we both know that. Do you think they’ll kill a witch for falling in love? No. So, we’ll have her killed and then wipe out her bloodline. And we keep all the money in our family. And Franklin will take the blame.” Rosemary bites her lip, trying to convince her sister that the world is best without me in it.
“She’s vexes me, her and her awful mother. But Cora, Cora was…” Violetta’s eyes look almost solemn, almost unsure, as she nibbles on her thumb.
“Weak. And couldn’t keep Delta in line.” Rosemary clasps her hands before her, like a prosecutor trying to convince a jury. “Look at it this way. It’s the exchange of her life for the life we want.”Rosemary’s hand finds her sister’s. Violetta winks at her, tapping her hand on top of Rosemary’s.
I look at the aunts, frozen on the lawn from the spectacle in the sky, their mouths in perfect circles, their eyes glued to the scene before us.
A conversation about killing me, and my son’s eyes are showing us something more powerful than I could have ever imagined, and my grandmother knew it all along. Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she warn me about what was to come?
‘It must unfold just as it should. I cannot meddle or get involved’were her words to Bastian. And the words she said to me,You are a true witch. Don’t lose our home. Don’t let our name be forgotten with time.
I had to create the potion so I wouldn’t lose our home. And if I died, our name would have been forgotten with time. The chess pieces seem to come into full view. She couldn’t tell me everything because this would not have been the outcome. But this is what I, what Aven was meant for. To take control of our own lives, to start something fresh and clean.
“He’s a Visionary,” Mother yelps. My eyes shoot to the aunts, who are no longer looking at the screen in the sky.
Their hands are collecting balls of fire.
THE SCREEN EVAPORATES, BREAKING CHANTALfree from the trance Aven’s eyes seem to have put us all in. She tries to get up, but I can see the pain on her face from here.
“Aster!” Bastian calls, most likely shaken by what he’s seen, running toward me again.
The glow from Aven’s eyes does not cease; it mutates into two lasers, greener and greener, aiming right into the ties that bind me, burning the cords in thin air. The green power floats in front of me, forcing my hands to reach out for it as it enters my fingertips and travels up my arms, taking hold of my muscle, my veins, wrapping around my skin, and my heart seizes, like it’s being brought back to life, this power that my son has given me. I watch it crackle and spark over my knuckles, the most intense power I’ve ever felt, and there’s a confidence that washes over me. I have to take these witches out, and with the energy thrumming through my veins, I just might be able to do it.
Without a second thought, I turn to Violetta who has run back on the stage, and shoot everything inside me straight into her core. She flies back, mouth aghast and shouting until she crashes into the pulpit.
“Untie me!” Mother screams, so I raise my hand to her binds and zap them gone in an instant.
Across the stage, Aven still sits safely in his carrier, the green in his eyes not as prominent, yet present, and I don’t see Bastian anywhere. Did Rosemary do something to him while I wasn’t looking? I frantically search for his face but only see Violetta, rising. I gather thispower, this vast energy, with such ease, and attempt striking her with the lightning, but she dodges the electric gust, flying into me, foot outstretched, delivering a kick right to my gut.
The blow steals my breath, my chest feeling like it’s caved in as my back slams into the ground. I cough, the pain making it impossible to breathe, and I look up to Mother. Her attempts at igniting power are fruitless, and in seconds, Rosemary blasts her into the gazebo, and the wooden structure crumbles on top of her. I seize, but there’s no time for crying or worrying, these witches will kill us all if we don’t kill them first.
