Everlasting

Chapter 9

Wulfric

"So, you make any progress today?" Safiya asked, strolling into the dining room casually, like she wasn't trailing smoke.

"Um... yeah," Argo answered. He watched her suspiciously, and Safiya looked down at herself only to laugh a little when she saw the smoke emitting from the hem of her skirt, which looked seconds from bursting into proper flame. She grasped the fabric and shook it out. Trails of magic danced down from her fingers and quenched the flames. She sat down across from us at the table like that whole scene was nothing.

We had been staying with the sister witches for three days now, and I was still adjusting.

They both lived lives imbued with magic. It was woven into the fabric of their day-to-day, yet they were completely unphased by it all. I don't know what I expected witches to be like, but it wasn't this.

"I think Roderick was right, after all," Safiya said. He was her husband, and I had been more than a little alarmed to learn he was the only witch among the three of them who had any formal training whatsoever.

Roderick insisted the best way to change a curse was to go through the person who had laid it. I didn't hold out much hope of that person being around, because I refused to believe I could be so lucky. Edmund thought the chances were good, since who would lay a curse of immortality on someone without making themselves immortal, too?

"I called Father again, but he didn't answer," Edmund said quietly.

Our father was at the root of the whole curse. He always avoided answering any questions about how it came to be, but he knew. It was obvious from the way his shoulders sort of sagged when we asked, the way his complexion went ashen, and the way his brows would draw inward with guilt. Sometimes, he even cried tears he was quick to hide from us. I never pressed the issue, since it seemed obvious to me who had done it. All I didn't know was why.

His name was Benedict. Dad's best friend, closer to him than a brother. They had done everything together. They even married sisters. But Benedict had always been a little out of touch with reality. He made us leave out offerings on nights of the new moon and was shamelessly superstitious. Standing close to him felt like standing in the heart of a storm, charged and a little dangerous.

I wasn't sure what he was, exactly, but once my eyes were opened to the supernatural world, I was certain he wasn't human.

The trouble was, no one knew where Benedict went after our curse set in. One night we woke up thirsting for blood, and in the morning, Benedict was just... gone.

He even left his family behind, though they joined him not a week later. Their whole house, packed up and emptied overnight. Never a farewell, though they were our family, too.

What could father have done that was so bad it caused a man to do such a thing? Uproot his wife and children, curse the man he loved as a brother along with his nieces and nephews? Children who were cousins to his own sons and daughters?

Whatever Father did to him, it must have been truly terrible.

"Father probably doesn't know where Benedict is, anyway," I said. Why would he, after all these years?

"He stands a better chance of finding him than we do," Edmund retorted. "I wouldn't even know what continent to begin with."

Okay, fair point.

"We could do a tracking spell," Safiya said. "But we would need something of his to make it work."

Edmund and I exchanged looks. He looked defeated. "We don't have anything of his," I said. It was a lot milder than what I wanted to say, which was "In what universe would we have something belonging to the man who cursed us hundreds of years ago?" But Edmund was already strung out enough without me provoking a fight.