“
You’re blocking me. Get out of my way,” I demanded, making an effort to move around her. She didn’t allow it.
Then Charlotte was beside her, forming another human wall between Jameson and me.
“
You heard her,” she said, the anger visible in her as well.
Then the Caldwell boys appeared on both sides of the girls, coming around me from both sides.
I scanned the line, seeing no genial expressions.
“
You don’t scare me,” I stated. “None of you do.”
“
Let’s test that theory, shall we?” Charlotte hissed, a smirk rising up, already stepping forward.
“
Let’s not,” came Estelle’s voice behind me.
I rotated and noticed my cousins had lined up beside me. This was getting out of hand.
“
All right. All right,” I said, holding up my hands. I didn’t want to see a fight break out over something that could be said to Jameson in private during class tomorrow. More importantly, I needed to get my family out of here. If Jameson appeared, that would definitely upset the delicate balance we’d reached.
Slowly, as one would in the presence of a snake, I moved to the side, toward the archway. Thankfully, my cousins followed.
With the exit in sight, it appeared that disaster had been avoided…that was until I heard my name.
“
Jocelyn, Jameson called out.
A simple word, but what he didn’t realize was that with everyone’s nerves flared and tensions heightened, he’d just set the fire to a brewing conflict.
Suddenly, I found Vinnia and Nolan suspended above my head, their legs curled behind them, their arms at their sides, readied for whatever might come.
My jaw fell and I believe a sigh was released but I couldn’t be sure. I was watching their feet dangle over my head.
Then Charlotte and Alison were in the air, hovering at the same height as my cousins. Apparently, they have the same ability, I thought, feeling surreal as I watched it.
Then there was scuffling, mumbles as those on the ground took their positions, poising themselves for the coming attack.
A line of defense formed on both sides, in the air and on the ground, all five of my cousins pairing up with all five of the Caldwells.
Shouting began, voices rising over each other so that words were obscured in one long, intermingled utterance.
Jameson, stunned by the abrupt, unexplainable conflict rushed in to the center of it, crossing the courtyard in only a few lunges. He came directly for me, swerving and barely missing Oscar’s effort to seize him. While it seemed from every aspect that he was narrowing his assault on me, my attention was locked on his expression, one that no one had the vantage point to see but me.
He wasn’t attacking. He was coming to my aid, again.
But he never reached me.
I watched in horrified amazement as the bodies of each Caldwell was slammed backwards, their limbs flailing out in front of them, as if they’d been hit by an explosion. My cousins did the same, ending up on the other side of the courtyard, their feet dangling just above my head. Although no one appeared to be hurt, they were clearly seething with anger, mostly at the opposite family. Jameson was the exception. He hung in the air, patiently waiting to be released, his focus flickering between me and his siblings.
He was still on alert.
With bodies cleared from the center and hanging throughout the air, it revealed the two women just beneath the eaves, standing directly across from me.
Ms. Veilleux placed a calm hand on Ms. Boudreaux’s arm, silently telling her to remain where she was, before moving out to the center of the conflict.
I thought at first that she was strolling but noticed her feet never actually touched the cobblestones. She stopped directly between us and the Caldwells before settling to the ground.
She spoke serenely with a melody to her voice that contradicted the words she chose. “You have now threatened your acceptance into this school.” She paused to allow that message to sink in. “This school dates back to 1720. It is a place that has trained some of the most powerful casters to ever exist. We have offered our students the knowledge and skills required to protect them within the boundaries of our world.” She fell silent, taking time to watch for her audience’s reaction at her next statement. “Never did we intend our lessons to be exercised in combat within the sanctity of our school.” This summoned guilty, downcast eyes from nearly everyone in the group. Jameson and I were the exception. Our eyes met and held each other.
“
This is a place of learning, a place to test your abilities, to improve upon them. It is here that I learned the art of levitation, as you well can see.” Her hand gestured to those still hanging in the air and I wondered how many others had this same ability. I certainly didn’t. “This school is a place to seek refuge, wisdom, enlightenment. It is not a battlefield. Do not turn it in to one.” Her next words were a demand and not a request. “You will not fail in this effort.”
A few of the Caldwell’s exchanged looks of doubt and I wondered if the same nonverbal message was being communicated between those above my head.
As if Ms. Veilleux anticipated this reaction, she chose that moment to render their punishment. “This will be the final conflict between your families. You will learn to appreciate each other, to accept one another or you will suffer a fate worse than any I could deliver.” She withdrew a piece of parchment paper in which words had been scribbled in ink and held it up. “You have earned the attention of The Sevens and they have responded with a missive. It states any further altercations between the Caldwells and the Weatherfords, on these premises or any other, will result in protective services. I do not want this. You do not want this.” Her voice dropped then, from the placating softness to an unquestionable command. “Coexistence…is not a choice.”
With that, she spun on her heel and marched back passed Ms. Boudreaux, who trailed her inside the office and closed the door behind them. Those hovering were slowly lowered to the ground, no one daring to say a word.
With the Weatherfords closest to the archway, we collected our canvas bags previously dropped randomly around the courtyard in our haste to prepare for the conflict. The Caldwells watched, motionless and silent, and then did the same before following us out to the street. Although they waited before we’d reached the end of the tunnel before entering it.
I noted how both families appeared deflated, the fight leaked from them after Ms. Veilleux’s chastising. I had a strong feeling it was also because of The Seven’s threat. Spencer was deep in thought while driving back to the house and I didn’t think disturbing him with annoying questions about The Sevens or how to levitate would help.
But my notion was confirmed back at the house.
When we entered the kitchen, jambalaya, comfort food I noticed, was waiting for us at a long wooden table spanning the length of the room. Miss Mabelle had also prepared an abundance of desserts, from various cakes to soufflés to bread pudding of all types. Miss Mabelle had been busy, it seemed.
With Aunt Lizzy at an evening meeting, which I learned was common due to her many volunteer duties, there would be no formal dining this time. And we took advantage of it. Oscar swung his chair around so that he ate over the back of it. Estelle plated dessert first. Vinnia ate on the counter, her feet tapping the cabinet below. Nolan leaned his chair back against the counter and ate from the plate in his lap. I stood across from Vinnia, leaning against the counter there, watching my cousins reminisce about the altercation. They were enjoying it so much, I couldn’t help but come to the judgment that my cousins not only liked to fight, they invited it.
As I watched them, I thought about Jameson and wondered if the Caldwells were engaged in a celebration, too.
Estelle chuckled as she slid a piece of chocolate cake with purple frosting onto her plate, a slice I knew she’d chosen for the color. “Did you see Charlotte’s face? Her nostrils were flaring. It was perfect.”
Nolan shook his head, a broad grin admitting his enjoyment in taking part in the fight. “And Dillon…I think he just learned that the Weatherford’s don’t put up with harassment.”
“
Good,” said Spencer, his mouth stuffed with mashed potatoes.
Oscar, however, sat quietly chewing, his head bowed in thought.
Noticing it too, Nolan elbowed him. “You all right?”
“
Huh,” he looked up, his eyes glassed over. “Sure, I just…”
The room fell silent as they waited to instantly refute whatever was dampening his good spirits.
“
I think it’s important to celebrate victories but I’m not convinced this was one of them.”
“
None of us got hurt,” Nolan rebutted. “No one was even punished, Oscar.”
He looked torn as to how to convey the concern pressing him. “That doesn’t mean our actions didn’t invite The Sevens here.”
The very sound of that name brought a visible depression over the group.
“
They don’t even know about what happened tonight,” Estelle challenged.
Oscar tilted his head at her, giving her an unspoken gesture to consider that statement further. “They have emissaries in this area and you know it. It’s just a matter of time.”
The fall of her head confirmed that she agreed.
“
Like I said, I’m not sure this is a victory.”
Spencer released a sigh, shaking his head. “The Sevens…”
“
They have
no right
to impose rules on us,” Vinnia fumed, her reaction again belying her innocent appearance. “Or to bring in their Vires.”
“
But they will,” insisted Spencer. “If they see cause for it. I heard recently that they infiltrated - relocated as they called it - their Vires to villages near Chicago and St. Louis.”
“
What are Vires?” I inquired.
“
Security forces,” explained Oscar. “Vire means forces in Latin. Their army was established centuries ago when Latin was the predominant language.”
I nodded, understanding. “Their Vires have been confiscating artifacts from Mr. Thibodeaux. He told us…me yesterday at his store.” Thankfully, no one seemed to catch when I cited being with someone else, namely Jameson.
Instead, Nolan nodded. “Their Vires have been collecting weapons.”
“
They’re overstepping their bounds,” Oscar mused, his eyes downcast. “The Sevens must be getting more confident.”
“
Or more intimidated,” Estelle pointed out.
“
Don’t you mean
intimidating
?” Nolan asked his tone edged with irony.
A brief silence hung over us, tension so thick it was almost a physical presence in the room. Then Oscar made a suggestion that wasn’t immediately popular. “Maybe, for the sake of everyone, the entire province in fact, we should do our best to prevent any fights with the Caldwells for a while.”
“
We already do that,” said Estelle sternly.
“
They came at us tonight,” Vinnia added.
He ignored her tone and replied evenly, “I know. I’m saying that if they should try to start something, anything at all, we need to prevent it. Turn and walk away, call for one of us, but do not engage and do not cast.” He glanced around the room at the discouraged expressions. “It’s either that or we start dealing with a bigger threat.”
“
The Vires,” muttered Nolan.
Oscar shook his head. “Not their security forces…The Sevens themselves,” he corrected the caution in his voice intentional.
His point, it seemed, had finally sunk in. After a brief, disgruntled silence, heads began to nod. They were downcast but at least they were nodding.
As I watched this entire discussion take place, a question lingered in the back of my mind. I felt a little guilty for it, in fact, because it directly went against what my cousins had all agreed to. I wondered if I’d ever get the chance to interact with Jameson again under these new conditions, beyond the brief hello before our classes started.
As if Estelle was on a similar train of thought, she frowned before disclosing, “Guess I won’t be hexing them tonight then. Was going to conjure a boil mark.”
Nolan beamed at her. “You were going to hex them?”
She shrugged, giving him a fleeting guilty smile.
“
Don’t,” insisted Oscar.
“
I just said that I wouldn’t,” she replied defensively.
With that irritation hanging in the air, we fell quiet, returning to our plates of half-eaten food.
“
Sorry,” Estelle mumbled a few minutes later, apologizing for her impertinence.
Oscar grinned to himself, conjuring a retort under his breath that sounded like “incantatio gurgite” and making a quick circular motion in the air. Although I couldn’t understand him, I soon inferred his incantation from the result.
The water in the glass before her began to churn until a whirlpool was created to slosh over the edges and spray across Estelle’s plate.
She gasped, offended but smiling. “Oh, that was bold. You do understand it calls for retaliation.”
“
Umhmm,” he confirmed, grinning deeper.
“
Neat magic-” I said and stopped myself. I’d almost added the word trick at the end and that would have been derogatory.