Page 10 of Above (Darkness Reigns #1)

Nova

“I created my first tonic today. It’s meant to help with my headaches since Mama’s doesn’t work on me anymore.

Today, she said she’s proud of the young lady I’m becoming, and she promised to let me start mixing with her in the mornings once I turn thirteen.

I told her that if Celeste and I don’t get magic then we can take over the apothecary. I’ve never seen her smile so big.”

S ix days after my birthday, I began fully preparing for the shadow ritual. I was eager to prove that I could be something special. That I already was. But more than that, I was floored by the thought that I might find answers and hope for my parents and Celeste.

Which was why, as Mama sold an eadi woman a tonic for her hair loss, I was sitting at the front desk, reading my alchemy book.

Celeste was arranging one of the shelves nearby, her constant clanking and clatter making my head ache.

It was like when she chewed with her mouth open.

The incessant noise more than bothersome. It was outright unbearable.

“Must you be so loud?” I hissed. She turned her head toward me, her curls bouncing, sticking out her tongue.

“Must you be so loud?” she mocked in a whiny voice.

Groaning, I folded myself tighter into the chair, hunching over the pages as if it would block out the sounds. But Celeste only grew louder, an evil smile on her face.

“You’re so lucky we have a customer right now.”

“Or what, you’d crush me with your big brain?”

“No, my fist!” I threatened.

“My fist,” she repeated.

“My fist,” I shot back.

We began a battle, each time we fired the words at one another becoming less understandable, until we finally started making noises at each other and sticking out our tongues.

“Girls, you’re too old for this,” Mama huffed as she walked toward us.

She wasn’t wrong. But things had continued to become tumultuous between Celeste and I, and it seemed staying in our childhood home beneath the watchful eyes of our parents didn’t help.

“Nova, Ms. Doherty will be purchasing a hair loss tonic and one of our needle pens.”

“Excellent,” I chirped, setting my book on the counter and grabbing the charge pad. I scribbled out the items, writing down the total. “That will be ten coppers.”

Ms. Doherty smiled nervously at me, opening her satchel and digging out the coin. I watched silently, my smile still plastered on. When she was done, she set them on the wooden desk, sliding them forward and ripping her hand away when I reached for them. As if I were poison.

Sighing, I grabbed a cotton bag and put both items inside, pulling the drawstring closed.

“All set,” I said, trying to maintain my cheery attitude.

The woman smiled, taking the bag and turning to Mama. “She’s nothing like those other wretched shaytan. You’ve done a great job raising her under the less than ideal circumstances, Octavia.”

My heart lurched. I waited, seeing what Mama would say, but Celeste was quicker than any of us.

“Nova will always be more eadi than shaytan.” Ms. Doherty looked at Celeste with wide eyes, her hand flying up to her open mouth.

Celeste stood there, her fists clenched and jaw jutting out, ready for a fight.

Too bad she didn’t realize that her words only hurt me worse.

“You shouldn’t compare her to those scum. ”

“Celeste!” Mama yelled, scolding her and putting her body between us and Ms. Doherty, the scandalized older woman looking ready to berate us all.

“I apologize. Things have been difficult lately with the protests and Seamus’s health.

When things have calmed down, I will send Celeste to your shop to apologize.

And, of course, to get some of your delightful peaches.

Actually, I would love to hear about what you are selling in your off season as I walk you out. ”

With that, Mama guided the older woman away. I assessed the two, my mind straying from the hurt to something far worse. Mama was only younger than Ms. Doherty by maybe five years. If she stopped taking haya she’d crumble.

“You could at least attempt to defend yourself,” Celeste huffed at my side. Peeking at her from the corner of my eye, I sighed.

“What’s the point?” Throwing up my arms in a hopeless shrug, I let them fall back down, smacking into my thighs.

“The point is that they think you’re one of them!” Celeste was quickly growing more angry, her cheeks deepening and the crease between her brow making an appearance.

“I am one of them, Celeste.” Stars, I wished she was too. It would fix everything.

“You don’t have to be! You can be different!” She looked at me as if I had lost my mind, gesturing at my body like it was an obvious thing. As always, I grew defensive in the face of her unfairness.

“Different? What exactly am I doing that lumps me in with the tyrants? All I ever do is try my best to follow the stars’ will. Same as everyone else.”

“That’s exactly the problem. The stars will. Who cares what they want? What have they ever done for our family other than curse us with broken bodies and foul magic?”

Furious now, I walked to the desk and snatched my book. “You can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Then I stormed out, not even saying goodbye to Mama as I passed her amongst the shelves. They loved to hate my magic. To stop me from using it at home to fix things or make our lives better. To make me hide it or resist its pull. But magic would be exactly what saved them in the end.

Making my way across the icy path, I tugged my hood up over my curls, not wanting to be noticed. I was tired of it. How other of eadi dealt with this, I’d never know.

As I passed by the gallows just outside of the shops center, I was forced to acknowledge the still-hanging corpses. Protestors.

Tucking my head, I made quick work of the distance between the shops and my home, feeling the ache from the repeated scaling I had to do to escape from the house of the man I had fucked, drugged, and then robbed last night.

But I had needed just a bit more coin. Enough to support my family in case something went wrong tomorrow.

Now I was paying for it, rotating my shoulder and unlocking the latch with my magic instead of the key just to spite Celeste—though she’d never know it.

Once inside, I stripped off my cloak and boots, my thick, beige long-sleeve and my dark brown trousers welcoming the chill. Had Dad forgotten to start a fire?

Death quickly ran to me, weaving between my feet and meowing loudly. Laughing, I scooped her up and walked toward the hearth on the far wall of the kitchen. No fire was lit, the air still and cold. Where was Dad?

Now slightly panicked, I ran to the hall, darting to Mama and Dad’s room. Without bothering to knock, I shoved the door open, my eyes latching onto Dad’s snoring figure. Stars. My racing heart quickly slowed, my head aching as it so often did. I needed to take a tonic.

He was just sleeping. He was alive. He’d be okay.

Tiptoeing to him, I crept up to the bed and tugged their thicker quilt over his body. Then I gently placed a kiss to his forehead and walked out. This was shaping up to be an awful final day at home.

Passing the kitchen, I set Death down and walked out the door, stomping along the dirt path that led to the side of our house where we kept our wood in a small shed Dad had built before we were born.

It had held up well over the decades, though I noticed as I opened the hatch that there must have been a leak.

I would fix that tonight. Grabbing a few logs, I headed back inside.

After starting a fire, showing Death some love, and beginning work on the lamb stew, I finally headed down to my lab.

Death was eager to follow, her belly now full from the scraps I had offered her.

She liked it down here as much as I did.

The air was stuffy and smelled of books and bones, but it was like a safe place.

Somewhere that I could be both sides of myself.

A sanctuary where the war inside my heart could pause.

While I needed to get some work done, I found myself grabbing my journal, wanting to write down the feelings that wished to bombard me.

Dad had encouraged Mama, Celeste, and I to write in them regularly.

Though it was mostly for sentimental reasons, Dad was also big on history as it was meant to be—firsthand and true.

He had many copies of old family journals from over the years, generations of Tershetta’s dating back to the dark times before the stars had gifted Dajahim magic.

Furiously, I scribbled my own thoughts down.

I wrote about Celeste, about the ritual, about Dad’s health.

Everything that came across my mind was added.

By the time I finally closed the leather book I was feeling, as I often did, relieved and lighter.

Stretching, I turned on my wooden stool, facing the vial of haya I was experimenting on.

The dark liquid was ominous as it seemed to stare back at me, daring me to try to decipher what was within.

Or perhaps that was the stars. I would be lying if I didn’t admit to fearing their retaliation. What if my experimenting made them angry? I didn’t want them to think I viewed myself as their equal. But I was out of options now.

I would not live my life without my family, even if they did aggravate me to no end. With that thought fresh in my mind, I grabbed the vial, tipped out some of the liquid, and got to work.

“This actually isn’t awful,” Celeste said as she chewed on a bite of her stew. Dad snorted, taking very few moments to breathe between bites.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked my sister, raising a brow.

“It means you’re usually a shit cook,” she shot back, smirking.

We hadn’t talked about the argument we had at the apothecary, but that was how things always were when it came to magic.

We never addressed it, just moved on instead.

That was fine with me, though. This was my last night at home before the shadow ritual. I couldn’t risk leaving on bad terms.

“Like you’re any better! Remember when you forgot you were boiling water and ruined both the fire and the squirrel?”

“You promised never to bring that up!”

“We had to drink broth for dinner!”

“Girls,” Mama chided, a soft smile playing on her lips. Then, right on cue, Death jumped up onto the table and shoved her face into Celeste’s ceramic bowl. Celeste shrieked, trying to shove Death away, and we all burst into laughter.

“It’s good to have one last dinner,” Dad sighed, his words wistful. Silence eagerly gorged on the space, making the air feel empty. My eyes darted down, not wanting to look at any of them. It was no secret that they didn’t want me to attempt the ritual or go to Elite Academy.

They’d rather die and force me to live centuries of time without them.

“We’ll have lots of time after I graduate,” I said, stirring my stew to keep my hands busy.

“You’re right,” Mama spoke, reaching over and grabbing my free hand. Daring to look up, I caught sight of the sorrow in her stormy eyes, a wrinkle forming above her brows that made my stomach ache.

“That’s if you graduate,” Celeste cut in, giving up and letting Death eat directly from her bowl.

“Celeste!” Dad yelled, making Death jump. She ran, avoiding the conversation like I wished I could. Lucky little creature. “Don’t say such awful things! We will think positively and support Nova.”

“Why? She’s choosing this.” Celeste turned my way, pointing at me from across the table. “You are leaving us by choice to join those soulless murderers. You can’t possibly think that they’ll let you live, yet you’re willingly walking into their path. And for what? To fit in with them?”

“To save your lives!” I screamed, standing so quickly my chair toppled. I smacked the wooden table, dishware rattling. Celeste’s eyes went wide, tension leaving her face. “All I have ever wanted was to keep you all alive. This is my chance. I could find a way without haya. Don’t you see that?”

Her eyes fell, hands catching her head as it tipped down.

Tears streamed down my face in time with hers, though my body was still while hers was convulsing with her gasping breaths and heaving sobs.

Sighing, I walked around Dad, kissing the top of his head before wrapping Celeste in a tight embrace.

Mama and Dad watched, their faces grim, as I attempted to console her.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to understand.

But I promise that everything is going to be okay.

I’m going to work hard and find a way to protect you three.

We’re going to be fine.” I ran my hand through her curls, letting my head rest on the crown of hers.

She held me back, the two of us embracing for longer than we had in what felt like forever.

“No, we won’t,” she whispered.