The Last Salem Witch

Exile, or Vacation?

Chapter 5

Family is a gift. I have always been reminded of this growing up and I internalized it even more when almost every single one of my family died. I did not get enough time that I would have liked with my father and mother and it just made the whole thing much more bittersweet and treasured. For me, family is supposed to have your back any time. They support your decision, are honest with you, and they certainly do not actively leave you out of the equation.

“I cannot believe you did that,” I told Xaero as I stormed through the house he rented in a snap.

Actually, the term ‘house’ here is used very loosely. It is a large, bungalow-type, four-bedroom house with an open floor living, kitchen, and dining space. It is complete with a foyer, a large backyard, and a porch that is wrapped around it. It is all high ceilings, white walls, and large, open windows that let so much light in you barely need fluorescents during the day. Although it’s a little bare, the owners were shocked that we opted to move in and pay in full straight away, and huge for only two people, the amount of free space just felt so inviting.

But don’t tell my cousin I said that.

Xaero sighs heavily as he drops the last of our bags in what I think is a good place for the living room. He’s changed from his Commander’s uniform to that of a pair of sturdy jeans and a cotton shirt that looked awful on his skin tone.

“I’m sorry, but you got outvoted; that means it’s not just me who thinks it is a good idea that you stay out of things for a while.”

“You know they always want an excuse to keep me out of the picture!” I all but screamed to his face. “They see me as this weak, pathetic little girl who lost her parents and does not know what to do. Well, apparently you do as well!”

His eyes flash darkly. “Don’t you dare, Ella. You know I fought as hard as you did to get you into the position you hold now.”

“Then why—”

“Because I need to keep you safe!” he shouted. “I promised your mother I would keep you safe always. And…”

I cross my arms in front of my chest. “And what?” I demanded.

With a hand, he rubs the back of his neck, the other settling on his hips. He refuses to look at me directly, and I know that there’s more to my safety than what he’s saying.

“What, Xaero?” I bit out. He closes his eyes.

“Your father was a brave and intelligent man,” he began to say, pain in his eyes. “He’s my uncle, and I loved him very much, but he risked our whole coven—risked you, to intervene with a prophecy.”

Xaero looks at me, something clouding his eyes. “I cannot let you risk anything like that,” he whispers.

I drop tiredly on the hardwood floors, the exhaustion suddenly bearing down on me in full force. So it was true. It is my father’s meddling in the prophecy that makes people distrust me around them. Because I am his daughter. All this time I thought not knowing would be okay, but in reality, I was only preserving his blameless image in my head. So that’s why Solaris was apprehensive of baring the entirety of a prophecy that somehow included me.

But how am I expected to do nothing? A war is brewing yet I cannot be on the frontlines to fight for my people. How will anybody respect or follow me if I let them bench me?

Pain stings the back of my eyes as I squeeze my eyelids shut. No. I will not cry. Not over this. Especially not in front of Xaero.

“I will not do entirely nothing, do you hear me?” I said with an edge of steel in my tone. “I will attend the war councils and every decision will still go through me.”

“Understood.” He chuckles. “Ella, no one expects for you to slink back in the shadows. We just don’t want you doing anything… rash.”

I scoff. “When did I do anything remotely stupid?”

Xaero shrugs. “Never, but the council seems to think our family is incapable of not meddling in prophecy-like affairs.”

“That might be true, but I wouldn’t even know where to start.” I sigh, looking at him reproachfully. “Don’t go behind my back ever again or I might hex you.”

“I promise, never again.”

“Good. Now, what are we doing at an unfurnished house? And why did you pick this neighborhood? Why not choose a witching community?”

He settles down on the floor beside me with a groan. “I am so tired that I picked the first house I saw on the website. The next community inhabited by a coven of witches and wizards are at least a hundred miles from here so I picked this neighborhood. We need to stay close.”

I nod, studying the scuff marks on the red soles of my Louboutin. Dammit, I need to buy new ones. I look around the massive room. I need to buy a lot of things. There’s no way I will be letting Xaero choose the furniture for this place. Much like the way he’d chosen this house, he’ll pick the thing nearest to him. I try to imagine the mismatching furniture and tacky La-z-Boy with the cup holder. I shudder.

Xaero notices and asks me what’s wrong. I shake my head. “Get up. We have a lot of shopping to do.”

After a brief call to the nearest fast-food restaurant that served breakfast, Xaero and I took a short tour to choose our rooms. While he chose the decent-sized room with the view of the front yard and the rest of the road that passed along it, I opted for the one closer to the back of the house. I am not a morning person and I love watching the sunset so the west-facing window with the view of the backyard and beginnings of the forest is perfect for me. The room I chose also had its own bathroom so I thankfully don’t have to deal with the embarrassment of sharing a space with my cousin.

Xaero brought my bags to my room and left me alone, saying he’ll call me when the food was here. I am thankful for the moment of privacy. I haven’t been on my own since Xaero picked me up from the airport and I feel very grimy from the constant traveling. I rummage through my luggage for the pack of toiletries I keep handy, also grabbing a change of clothes and my fluffy, purple robe, and head for the shower.

The bathroom is quite smaller than the ones in the hotels I stayed at and the marble tiles are pretty much standard. There isn’t even enough space for a bathtub. Realizing this simply won’t do since I have plans of soaking in a bubble bath with a bottle of pink champagne later tonight, I go back to my bags and pick up the family grimoire. I thumb through the thick, browning pages until I find the extension charm I was looking for and cast it with a flick of my wrist.

The small room morphs from a simple, narrow bathroom to being a room spacious enough for a bathtub, a shower that I fully intend on changing to something more overhead, and a large mirror and countertop for my stuff. I add these things to the mental shopping list I’ve created for our trip later today.

For now, I get in the shower, appreciating the added space and the fact that the landlords had the good sense to turn on the heating at some point after we arrived. I lather on the rosemary shampoo I like, taking time to massage the tangles and dirt from my hair. I let it soak for a few minutes, massaging constantly before rinsing and applying the conditioner. I make quick work of scrubbing my body of last night’s activities with a small charm on my loofah, before rinsing well, brushing my teeth, and toweling off to dry.

I reach for my old clothes and use them to wipe off the steam on the mirror. My cheeks are flush from the heat of the shower, but the clumps from my mascara are gone and so is the glamour that I’ve put on to keep my makeup stay on. So, now I’ve got a bare face free from the weight of makeup, showing pale skin with barely a speck of a freckle, almond-shaped eyes I inherited from my mother, but the coloring was entirely my father’s. The Wysterra amethyst eyes.

Often I have been told that my features are the perfect mix of my parents. My dark hair has the same thick and wavy quality as my mother had once, I got my father’s lips with the fuller bottom lip than the top lip. His high cheekbones, her diamond-shaped face. I am the amalgamation of everything Cassius and g*****a Wysterra, people say. I cannot help thinking that this goes for both the good and bad parts.

I shake the thoughts from my head and dress with a pair of dark jeans I’ve had for some time now and an old brown hoodie with frayed ends. With one quick spell, I perfectly dry my hair and with another, I braided it up so it won’t get in the way later.

Food’s here, Xaero said through the link.

I take one last look in the mirror, shrugging at my plain attire, and grab a pair of socks and my white running shoes, putting them on as I go to the makeshift dining area Xaero set up on the back patio.

“s**t,” I muttered, looking at the amount of food we ordered.

“Yep,” Xaero replied with a laugh, defining the lines on his face. “I was not aware they had such a varied breakfast menu.”

I grab a fork and take a bite out of one of the pancakes. Hmm, this is really good. The pancake is really light and their maple syrup tasted authentic, not one of those imitation ones some diners used. Xaero hands me a cup of breakfast tea and I pass him the hashbrowns. We continue to eat in companionable silence outside, even if the late September air bit the skin harshly when the breeze blew past.

When we are done, Xaero fishes something out of the pockets of his jeans. He produces two vials with sparkling blue liquid in it, stopped by a cork on one end. I raise a brow in question.

"Reinvigorating potion," he said by way of explanation. "We haven't slept a wink and you must be jet lagged. You need this."

I chuckle, saying 'thank you' before I open up the vial and drink from it. In an instant, I feel refreshed with no sign of exhaustion in my body.

"Mm, is this a double dose?"

Xaero grins devilishly. "Three doses coupled with a sweet strengthening charm for that extra kick."

"You are trouble. Get the car, we should leave."

Xaero calls the chauffeur and soon, the familiar black Mercedes is rolling up in our driveway. Menard, a warlock who's too young to apprentice, holds the door open for me with a smile. I look at what he is wearing.

"Menard, your attire is too conspicuous," I said. "Step inside the house for a bit and glamour your clothes into looking something less like you're going to a ballroom competition."

Xaero chuckles from the other side of the car as Menard blushes and rushes inside the house. He's gone for two second before he steps out of the door in a nice fitting pair of brown trousers and a blue knitted sweater. Even the loafers are a nice touch.

I can't help but grin at the boy. "Good. To the mall, please."

The drive to the local shopping center was short and unbelievably boring. Danvers' landscape remains pretty much the same since the last time I was here, which is saying a lot because the last time I was here was about two hundred years ago. The mall is already open when we arrive but isn't too overrun by shoppers yet.

When we arrive at the department store that housed both clothing, furniture, and appliances, you can tell the sales people have had very slow days in the past. They swarm us and point us to where we want to go. In under three hours, we have picked beds for both of our rooms, a sofa set that can seat a handful of people without looking tacky, an electric stove to build in a center aisle that Xaero promises he will start on tomorrow, and some sheets, pillows, plates, utensils, and other basic appliances. I also got intrigued with the refrigerator that had a touchscreen pad in front of it with a built-in ice maker so I bought it. Next up, we bought food and other necessities like toilet paper and cleaning materials.

By the time we were done, we had a parade of shopping carts accompanying us to the car and those we couldn't fit in the trunk we put in the truck lent to us by the mall where our other purchases were in. We had Menard ride with the truck back to the house as Xaero drove the car, but seeing as we haven't completed buying other furniture like better toilets and that overhead shower I wanted, we instructed him to direct the people to move the things we bought carefully into the house.

We got to a warehouse of home appliances and furniture and they gave us a brochure of the things they had in stock. So, Xaero and I spent the most of lunch poring over catalogs and scanning those we wanted to install in the house. We got lucky too, because with our big bill, the company lent us their workers to set up our purchases for us.

"So, you're really moving here, Your Majesty?" Menard asked, eating from a box of Chinese food.

We are back on the porch, now installed with a nice patio set, eating food we ordered in while various people worked to set up the house inside.

"We're only here a couple of months," I explain with a little shrug, trying to brush off the fact that I still am left out of the action. "I'm just thinking of this as a sort of vacation."

"Uh, not exactly."

I turn to look sharply at Xaero who is finishing off his bubble tea. "What?" I demanded.

He sets his cup down on the newly bought table and flashes me a small smile that was supposed to look confident but ended up looking like a grimace on his face.

"Keymaster Atticus said it would be a good idea, so I did, and besides, the knowledge you can get—"

"What. Did. You. Do."

Xaero puts a finger over his mouth. "Don't raise your voice, you'll alert the workers."

But I am way past the point of caring. What the hell did he do now?

Menard sits back in his chair, cradling his yang chow rice and dumplings like a baby in his arms, brown eyes widely watching the both of us.

"I arranged for you to do… something."

My eyes narrow. "What 'thing'?"

He blows out a shaky breath. "High school. Tomorrow you start your junior year of high school."