Foulweather Twins Trilogy: The Complete Series: Foulweather Twins

By J.R. Pearse Nelson

Stubborn and suspicious are two qualities that don't go over well in the Queen family… I should know. My elders curse my independent streak. 

But I can't just sit back and let the Lady make a weapon out of me. I can't see my twin hardened into a villain, either.

The Lady thinks she's making the rules. I guess I'm not much of a follower.

***A series collection of the complete Foulweather Twins fantasy trilogy. ***

Where does my story truly begin? Maybe with the birth of twins to a soon-dead witch. Or possibly with the name bestowed on me by the Lady, the immortal we serve. She called me Sage, and my sister Wren. The Foulweather twins. As I choose to see it, my story begins when I first participated in the course of my life. When I started making my own decisions, despite everything I'd been taught. Forced recluse with a secret life? That's me.

Sage Brighton is a young woman of incredible power, but she doesn't decide how that power is used, or anything else about her life. As a witch of the Queen family, and a twin, Sage will serve the Lady all her days. The immortal has plans for Sage and her twin Wren. They are to be her Hands, her enforcers in the mortal, modern world. But first Sage must survive her training, learn to control her sociopathic sister without getting maimed in the process, and all the while try to keep something of her life for her own.

This is a complete series collection including three novels, Queen Witch, Chaos Calling, and The Unseen Mirror.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.R. Pearse Nelson
• Release date: Jan 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393966265

J.R. Pearse Nelson

J.R. Pearse Nelson is a fantasy and romance writer who has authored more than 20 novels. She hails from Oregon, USA, where she lives with her husband, two teens, and two dogs among the plentiful trees and clouds of the Pacific Northwest. J.R. weaves tales rooted in mythology, bringing legend to life in modern-day settings and fantasy realms. When not writing, you can find her making magic in the kitchen and enjoying long walks or "rambles" outdoors. J.R.'s books include the Moon Garden Mysteries paranormal cozy series, the Aeon Society fantasy romance series, and the Water Rites fantasy trilogy. You can connect with J.R. and learn more about her fiction at her website. Visit jrpearsenelson.com.

Book preview

Chapter One

Wren, take it easy! I shouted to my sister over the howling winds that whipped along the rock-studded beach and stirred the crashing waves into froth.

Instead, my twin threw all of her power against me, knocking aside the rock I’d held there for her, hovering in mid-air despite the fierce wind. I scowled, but played along, raising rock after rock as she dashed them back to the earth.

Wren’s expression was a mirror of my own as we faced off. We were identical, on the surface, even if we had little in common outside the physical. The wind had already stripped strands of Wren’s long dark hair out of the braid I’d done for her not half an hour ago. Deep gray clouds studding the horizon spoke of a rainstorm on the way.

Finally, Wren threw one of the stones far. It flew past me, into the waves. I made sure not to gape; she loved to show her superior strength in these games, and I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing it bothered me.

My turn. I told her, watching the trail behind her for any sign of movement. If the aunts caught us at it, we’d be days recovering from the pile of chores that would result. Since we hadn’t started twin school, we were supposed to use our powers sparingly. Too many twins explored their powers in dangerous ways without the proper training and ended up dead before they could be of any service to the Lady at all. But tell that to a pair of fourteen-year-olds who could move matter with their minds. We couldn’t resist.

Wren raised a boulder first. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she concentrated her energy on the single rock. Instead of doing as she’d done, I twisted it, raising my own rock and beating it against the boulder, attempting to dislodge it and send it back to sea or sand. One rock wasn’t enough, so I was in the middle of raising an army of rocks – not one of my better ideas – when we were interrupted.

A ball of white fur hurtled toward us. The dog had gotten pretty close before I noticed it, and Wren’s back was to it. It started barking before I could warn her, a sharp yip that made Wren jump. She dropped the boulder, which shattered into two pieces as it hit the rocks below. I stared at it for a split second. Breaking rocks. Now that was cool.

I didn’t have time to say anything before Wren twisted to face the dog, now a scarce ten feet from her. She threw up a hand and a wave of sand and rock lifted the dog off its feet, and sent it flipping through the air.

It was then that I noticed a man running toward us from farther down the beach, obviously coming after his dog. He stopped, confused, when he saw Wren’s action. I couldn’t be sure what he thought he saw, but I let out a little shriek that alerted Wren to his presence. If there was any rule that governed our lives, it was don’t use powers around strangers.

The dog landed on all fours and gave a final yip before scurrying off with his tail between his legs and his ears flat against his head.

I grabbed Wren’s hand, holding tight despite her protest, and ran toward the wooded trail. I expected to hear the man yell behind us, but if he said anything at all, the wind tore the words away before they reached my ears.

Around a bend in the trail I slowed and dropped Wren’s hand angrily. She clasped her hands together and looked at the ground. She could tell I was mad, but I knew she had no idea why. That frustrated me even more.

Wren! You cannot lash out like that with your power. Don’t you know you could hurt somebody?

It was a dog. An annoying dog, she told me resentfully.

Did you see the man running toward us? I didn’t even have to ask. Wren. We’ve been over this. We’re not even supposed to use our powers like that around the aunts, much less around a stranger. You can’t act like that. We don’t own the beach, you know.

We were there first.

No matter. If you can’t control yourself, I’m not playing. I stalked off, too upset to say more right now. I might say something I’d regret. Not that my sister would notice. She could be selfish, not to mention dangerously out of control. Our temperaments were polar opposites. My sister was quiet, shy, and didn’t care for people. In fact, as she’d just shown, she could be dangerous. It wasn’t that Wren actively disliked people; it was that she didn’t care. Another person’s joy, or their pain, never really got through to her.

I stayed ahead of Wren the whole way home, taking our usual path alone. I don’t know if she trailed me or took another route. Sometimes I got tired of caring. She could find her own way home. She was capable of that much.

I strolled by my friend David’s house, but didn’t see any signs of life no matter how slow I walked. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, which was unusual for the summer months. His family lived in the city, but came to their coastal cabin for many weekends, regardless of the time of year. In the summer even more so, as his mom exchanged the heat of city sidewalks for the serenity of a beachfront paradise, taking her kids along. David’s mom always dressed in flowery prints, bright and sunny, just like her smile. David was lucky; his family was nice. Normal.

I’d known David since I was six. When he stayed at his family’s cabin, we had a secret way to exchange messages, and several secret places we loved to meet.

I hoped he’d be back soon. I was getting lonely with no one but my twin for company. You might think that would be enough, a twin to share everything with. I loved my sister, but sometimes she wasn’t great company. And I had no normal friends, not the way most kids my age had friends, from what David said. I didn’t go to school. A cousin who lived in the cliff-top house with us home schooled Wren and me. We didn’t really see anyone besides cousins, aunts and uncles. Some of the cousins were close to our age, but none of them were twins. That set us apart, in our family.

Among the Queen witches twins were precious and saved for the family’s immortal patron. Twins like us were raised to serve the Lady, as her Hands. In some ways, my twin was the only person I was taught to rely on. Our duality shaped our world and our obligations. I was only a kid and already I’d noticed that. The rest of the family held us apart, somewhat reverently, but that didn’t help children who just wanted to get in on their cousins’ games.

I continued along the small winding road toward home, a chill running through me when I considered what had almost happened on the beach. Wren had almost hurt someone. Would she ever learn caution? Would I always have to remind her to control her emotions, and her power? Would I always be there when she needed reminding?

These thoughts woke a fear that had long lived under my skin. What would the Lady do if she knew how Wren sometimes lost control and struck out with her power? The Queen witches hid their powers from the world. We lived outside of everything, having only as much contact with the mainstream as necessary. We didn’t mix, it was just too dangerous.

The Lady made her family from distinguished magical bloodlines, adopting and even rescuing witches as they were persecuted across the centuries and around the world. Regular people didn’t understand witches; especially witches bred to their powers like thoroughbred horses to the race.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept seeing the little dog flying through the air, kept wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t been there, if Wren had been alone on that beach with the dog and the stranger. Would my sister have unleashed her power on the man as well?

I went outside. The rain lashed down, nearly horizontal with the driving wind. It wasn’t uncommon for winds at Cape Foulweather to reach a hundred miles per hour. The current storm had nothing on the scary storms.

The weather suited my mood. My hair whipped around my face as I sat in one of my favorite spots, under an awning wrapped around with trellises and vines. The bower, we called it. The large swing always made me feel like I was getting a hug when I sat back on its deep bench.

Alone in the storm, I cried for my sister. The fear welled up, and for a while I let it swallow me whole. I was a ragged mess when Aunt Hope found me. I had no idea how she’d known I was outside, but I was grateful.

Sage. Her tone was filled with regret. Had she expected this outburst? As she sat next to me I realized she’d brought a thick blanket.

I couldn’t sleep.

No wonder. It sounds as if your heart is ripping out, all alone out here. Sweetie, do you want to talk about it?

I don’t know if I can. You might not want to know what I’m thinking.

She scooted closer, until she could wrap her arms around me. I sighed, but it came out a choked gasp. She just held me close and rested her head against mine. She smelled good, like cedar and lavender, but subtle, as though the smell came from her skin. She always smelled good. Cedar and lavender were my comfort smells for a reason.

She didn’t press, just sat with me in silence. The storm abated somewhat, and the wind no longer whipped at our hair. We watched the weather for a time, measuring the night in raindrops and the occasional glimpse of a half moon.

Finally I spoke, my voice muffled where I’d turned into her embrace.

Wren is dangerous. I stopped there, and was relieved to feel an answering squeeze. She’d heard me, but she didn’t voice an opinion on my observation. The chill crept further into my bones. Today on the beach she flipped out and sent a dog flying through the air. A man was running toward us, and I don’t know what he saw.

She still didn’t respond. I told her my heart’s truth. Aunt Hope, is this going to be my life? Trying to protect my sister, and protect everyone else from her? It’s bad enough to be a twin, to have to serve when all I want is–

She touched my lips with a finger, a clear signal to hush. I complied, seething silently, my stomach all churned up like a nest of angry snakes. The aunts would never allow the words to escape my lips, but I couldn’t help these thoughts. I didn’t want to serve.

"It won’t do to resent it, Sage. The family needs you. You are a proud Queen witch, and one who will meet her potential. Don’t resent that. So many Queen witches have only their self-control. Twins practice. We train, we learn. Along the way we explore and we find ourselves more truly than the other Queens can know. Serve the Lady with joy. She does not have to make this possible for you. It is a gift.

"As to Wren’s misuse of her power on the beach, I will speak with her. You are right to fear, but I have not given up hope of teaching your sister some measure of control, enough that she can serve and not be too much of a burden to you.

Sage, do not speak of this to the Lady or to Aunt Ivy. My twin serves the Lady without question, and I don’t want either of them to have reason to question Wren’s…suitability.

The chill lodged firmly in my bones. What would happen if they did question her suitability?

And another thing. You’re smarter than this. Don’t abuse your power. Don’t stretch your limits. Remember only about half of twin sets survive to start twin school. Do you think you’re so much better? You have another two years to live through without killing yourselves. Don’t be a casualty of ignorance, my girl. You’re the only one who can prevent that. After a lingering hug, the woman who had always been like a mother to me slid out from under the blanket and returned to the house, leaving me to my dark thoughts.

Chapter Two

The next morning I woke up in a snit, and the day just got worse from there. Over breakfast, Aunt Ivy told us the Lady would see us in the afternoon. That cut short my plans for a solitary hike after lessons, but I didn’t say anything. I was in too foul a mood to risk opening my mouth.

The Lady didn’t see us often when we were children. A few times a year she would send for us, and Hope or Ivy would scurry around preparing us to visit her. A bath, scented oils and incense were all apparently necessary to erase the stink of childhood so we would not offend her immortal senses.

I didn’t get it. On the one hand she wanted us to treat her like a favorite aunt, but on the other hand all of these visits built a relationship that I now understood she’d call on throughout our lives. It felt calculated, and I wondered if she realized how cold she came off. I wondered if she really cared about us at all.

None of these were sanctioned thoughts, and I spent a lot of time as a child wondering what was wrong with me that I felt this way when the rest of the family was so enamored of the Queen of Peace.

We’d seen her more regularly lately. Now that we were fourteen and had two years until twin school, it was time for her to start testing our knowledge of the basics.

The Lady lived outside the world, in more ways than one. Her dwelling was magical; the aunts called it the Realm. It could only be reached through established doors trusted to the best among her family of witches. Her Hands.

The aunts had been Hands, but they retired to raise us. That’s how it worked. You served, and served…and then served some more. So many ways to serve an immortal – she had all the time in the world to think up new ones. And her Hands were just that. Anything that needed doing in the world, it’s up to her Hands.

The Queen of Peace despised the modern mortal world. She couldn’t stand all of the noise, the clamor of cars and construction, the din of crowds.

It seemed I was the only one who found that strange, but I wondered what good it is to be immortal, if you can’t stand the world you live in.

She had no other world. She had her home, but that was not a world.

The Realm was vast, yet enclosed in the earth’s breast, underground. The walls in all of the rooms were curved, painted in flaked gold. Some were odd, stretching shapes and others were perfect domes. I wondered if it was based on a man-made design, or on natural caverns. Maybe it was actually based on some sort of architecture unknown to humans.

Really, we had no idea what she was. The Lady. The Queen of Peace. Queen of the immortals, or so she told us. She was more compelling than any human could be, serene and aloof, and beautiful beyond utterance. Her icy gaze made you want to bow in submission. Her smile made you crave another. For all of our family, it was the same.

What was an immortal? Just how old was she, and how was she immortal? Was she some other race? A witch who’d achieved that ultimate power, the power to live and live forever?

She didn’t talk about it. And we weren’t allowed to ask. The aunts would brush aside such a question, but the fear in their eyes was telling. We weren’t supposed to ask. There was a lot we weren’t supposed to ask.

Some rooms in the Lady’s home were filled with treasure chests. At least that’s how I used to think of them. We could spend all day in one room, eating the delicate foods the Lady preferred, dressing up in the fabulously rich clothing from the chests, listening to the stories of the different artifacts we uncovered. That part was fun.

I loved the Lady’s stories. They were so romantic, and I am a romantic at heart. Her stories were filled with adventure, with love and lovemaking – Wren and I blushed at these parts.

Her rooms were roughly organized by historical period, though the treasures crossed more cultures than I could count. She’d collected a history here. Today I finally asked a question that had burned inside me since we began our exploration many months before.

My Lady, is it the history of the witches you collect here? The history of my people?

She looked a bit taken aback, her eternally smooth brow crinkling in a frown. Your people? Your people are my people. The witches owe me fealty after all I’ve done for you. You call them your people? I am your people. I am all you’ll ever need. You are my witch. My Hand.

I ducked my head in submission, knowing better than to answer back. I knew my subservience would help her set aside her sudden bout of temper. Sometimes she reminded me of my sister. I was handling the Lady like I did Wren, and I struggled not to laugh. It shouldn’t be funny. Both of them were immature, but Wren was fourteen. What excuse did the Lady have? I pondered that. Was it an effect of immortality…did you actually get less mature if you lived forever?

I needed to escape, at least for a moment, to compose myself. My Lady, may I have leave to visit the bathroom?

The Lady focused her gaze on the far wall, and a moment later her servant Yetta sauntered in. When she turned our direction, a sullen expression marred her beauty. Her dress was gold, of some shimmery fabric. It was gathered beneath her ample breasts and flowed to the floor in a cascade of scattered light. I would have loved that dress, but I’d probably never be shaped like Yetta, and it wasn’t at all practical if you were expected to stay busy, as we were.

If we had any small needs, like the bathroom, while we were with the Lady, we were handed off to one of her personal servants. Some of them liked us. Yetta, the recent favorite, wasn’t one of them. She was just a few years older, and far less powerful than us.

The Lady’s servants weren’t chosen for their power, more likely a lack of it. Beauty moved the Lady to take a witch into her home. She loved the beautiful ones, and never tired of new beauty to appreciate. I guessed it was one of the things that made life worth living, century after unforgiving century, as her world fell away beyond her door, and changed.

So Yetta was offended any time the Lady sent her off on an errand for, or with, us. I didn’t care for her either, and I knew Wren and I were worth ten of her apiece. I’d seen the Lady take witches in before. Brody was the last. His beauty had brought a flush to my twelve-year-old cheeks. He’d ruffled our hair and smiled at us, and I was so shy I couldn’t say a word to him. Then, one day, he was just gone. I had never heard anyone speak of him again.

Since then I’d wondered about the Lady and her companions. They acted as servants, there was no doubt about that. But who didn’t? The Lady didn’t have anyone to match her, just the family of servants she’d built.

Of course, the other immortals may have matched her. There were at least three that I’d heard of. Chaos was the closest; he was the only immortal sharing North America, and the Lady despised him for that, as well as some transgression I had yet to figure out from their long history. Maybe it was more than one transgression. The Lady had trouble forgiving a transgression in the singular, much less multiples.

Wondering about the immortals achieved little. Queen witches didn’t meet other immortals – the Lady kept her family well insulated from outsiders. And she kept herself insulated even from the family, behind layers of personal servants and the powerful Hands. Until we joined them, there was little to occupy my curiosity besides schoolwork and the family mysteries I saw in only small slices. I didn’t yet know all it meant to be a Queen witch.

When I felt composed, I returned to find my sister at the Lady’s knee, listening in rapt attention to some story or another. Wren watched the Queen of Peace with adoration, like all the other Queen witches I knew. I stood in the shadowed doorway, scuffing my toes against the stone floor.

I fought a familiar battle there in the shadows, struggling with the competing needs to be accepted by the immortal who controlled my life, and the desire to be free of the Lady and the weight of her demands. I’d never achieve freedom, but that meant I couldn’t readily indulge in the Lady’s acceptance, either. Instead, I held back, unlike my twin. That difference between us shouldn’t make me feel betrayed, but Wren’s willingness to serve the Lady meant I was along for the ride. How could I move and feel, and learn and grow – all the while knowing my life was not my own? Yet I chose a lonely path by resisting the Lady’s control. Queen witches didn’t resist, and they didn’t pout, as Aunt Ivy would surely put it. I would serve the Lady; it was the only path open to me.

One day as I walked the winding coastal road, I spied the signs of life at David’s house that I’d been awaiting for weeks. I ducked my head and passed the house, hopefully unnoticed.

We were supposed to fade to the background in the neighborhood. It wouldn’t do for folk to notice us. Odd things happened when we were around. Things small-town folk just don’t forget. Better never to have their attention on us at all.

So when I saw David’s mom in the flowerbed out front, planting a bright array of pansies, I walked around the bend and stopped behind a spruce tree. I pulled paper and pen from a pocket, and jotted down a quick note. I placed it carefully between the limbs of the spruce, in a little hollow nature had provided as our message spot. I knew David would come by later in the morning and check for one. And then he’d meet me at our cliffside hideaway.

I ran back to my house. Wren was up, and we ate breakfast together. She always slept later than me. In the early hours, while she was still in bed, I roamed free. I could meander on my own, watch the soothing waves and weather, or meet my secret friend. Melody started our lessons at nine, so before that our time was our own. The aunts had never hovered over us, not since we were small, anyhow. As soon as they could count on our self-preservation instincts, we were allowed to run all over the Cape and surrounding neighborhood.

I was the explorer. When Wren came along she mostly followed me. Other than that, she kept to herself, at home or on our property. I was far more confident and outgoing. A good thing, because with her social problems Wren would be a danger off the property by herself. And that would be just one more thing to worry about.

Wren mostly ignored me at breakfast, although she’d waited to dig in until I popped into my chair at the kitchen table. A fire burned hot in the hearth that separated the kitchen from the family room, and the smell of baking bread made my stomach rumble. I slipped my feet out of my shoes and stretched my toes against the cool stone tile, enjoying the contrast between the heat of the fire and the cool stone.

I was midway through my pile of scrambled eggs when Wren finally asked, Find anything?

I pulled out an agate the size of my thumbnail and set it before her. This was tradition between us. Wren was lazy and unmotivated, but that didn’t mean she lacked interest in the world, the natural world anyway. She pulled the agate closer and took another bite of her eggs as she stared at it. Her eyes darted to meet mine for a split second, about as long as she ever held eye contact. A small smile. Lovely. She’s nice.

That was as good a thank you as I ever got for something I brought to brighten her day.

My impatience was obvious during lessons, enough that by the time we got to math, Melody assigned me twice as many calculations as normal. I glared. She glared back. Since I couldn’t exactly argue, I got to work before I wasted any more time.

Two sandwiches today? she asked when I ran into the kitchen and gave her my completed assignment. Without another word she handed me a basket that I knew I’d find packed with enough lunch for two. Despite the additional math, I raised myself up on tiptoe – Melody was a tall woman – and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiled without looking at me. Not quite a co-conspirator, she did know that some days I liked to take a picnic and get out for most of the afternoon. And she knew me well enough to assume this was one of those days.

I ran down the trail, taking the turn sharply. I slowed, nearing the cliff. I was pretty sure David would wait for me anyway, but it had been so long since I’d seen him, and of course I didn’t know if his parents had other plans for his afternoon.

Sure enough, when I came into our nook, a sheltered little spot set back from the cliff top with a panoramic view of the ocean, which was rather calm on this particular day, there he sat. My insides lit up like a lighthouse welcoming a ship home from sea.

I loved David.

I set the picnic basket before him, and sank to the ground cross-legged, looking him over.

Hello, Sage. He spoke softly, meeting my gaze with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. When he really smiled he did so with his eyes.

Hello, David. I looked at the ocean for a moment, gathering my courage to talk to him. You were gone too long.

He laughed, a sound that sent sparkles through my soul.

Yes, I loved him. In that first innocent blush of womanhood. We’d known each other so long, I wasn’t sure when my feelings had turned from those of a playful, adventurous girl to the fantasies of how his lips would feel on mine, but somewhere along the line that shift had occurred. I didn’t know if it was the same for him.

He tugged a bundle from behind his back, unwrapping the paper slowly, grinning like a fool. That’s how I knew he had something good.

Books! I squealed when I saw three Agatha Christie novels. I looked at him through wide eyes. Three hidden books would keep me busy in spare private moments for weeks. Really?

Dad’s been busy at work, and Tommy’s doing a bunch of summer camps. We haven’t been coming as often. I don’t want you to get bored with me. He laughed again. As though I would grow bored with the most exciting part of my life.

Can you show me something? He often asked for a bit of magic, ever since I’d shown him my secret at the age of eight. I didn’t begrudge him. Seeing it through his eyes, as such a delightful rarity, I couldn’t deny him. In fact, I always felt better about my magic after I’d brought such wonder to his face.

I pulled his hand into my lap, and looked out to sea again. The cliff dropped more than two hundred feet before meeting the waves. I’d been working on something I knew would thrill him.

I focused on the water at the base of the cliff, crashing against the rock. I couldn’t see it from where we sat, but I knew right where it was and that was all I needed. I focused on pulling it toward me, and a stream of seawater lifted on the wind to the top of the cliff, into David’s hand, where I held it in my lap.

He gasped. That’s from down below? That’s a long way to move something, isn’t it? I haven’t seen you do that before. His eyes shone with wonder, but there was something darker in his expression, too. I realized I’d scared him. Maybe he didn’t want to know how vast the possibilities were with my particular gifts. Not to mention with my twin at my side.

I’d never told David of twin magic. He knew of my twin, of course, though I’d taken pains to make sure they never met. He knew Wren was just as gifted, and that she was not quite right. How could I help but share that with my secret friend? He was my only completely safe place to turn, the only one who never told me to hush, and he welcomed me despite my strangeness. I saw that through his eyes, too.

Still, I don’t think I’d ever scared him before that day. He was quiet after. We ate the lunch Melody had packed and watched the waves. I grabbed his hand as he moved to leave. Tomorrow?

Yes. How about a walk in the woods? Where the stunted trees formed shadows that reminded me of monsters from the lore Melody read to us. I shivered involuntarily.

I’ll see you at the trail at dawn. I smiled at him, and he smiled softly back. It didn’t reach his eyes.

In the morning, he didn’t show.

Over the following year I saw David only three times. The next year his family sold the cabin. He didn’t even leave a note to say goodbye. I refused to think of the heartache, or to feel it. Over the lonely months I began to regard him as little more than a childhood imaginary friend. I’d obviously seen more in him than there was. So I outgrew him in my own mind, as I later did in deed.

Chapter Three

I don’t know what to think, Aunt Hope’s voice sounded muffled. I saw the wobbling stack of clothes she was about to put in a suitcase just before I ducked back into the hall. She sounded serious, and I wanted to hear what they were talking about before they put the kid gloves back on. They had a bag out, like they were packing.

This thing with Maj– Aunt Ivy began.

Aunt Hope cut her off, just as she was about to say something interesting, I was sure. We’ll have to see what’s going on when we get there. Terrible timing; you know Isabel and Rose aren’t doing well. It won’t be long before we’re discussing transition. It’s not a good time for troubles.

I’m just happy to get out of this house. Don’t know about this ‘disciplining our own’ idea.

I crept to the edge of the doorway, where I could see my aunts as they spoke. What were they talking about?

We’ll have to wait and see what the Lady tells us. She’ll have her plans, so we’d best not make our own, dear, Aunt Hope told Aunt Ivy, who frowned and returned to evaluating the contents of her bag.

Sage, come in here, Aunt Ivy called. She didn’t look up until I was right behind her. The light in her eyes surprised me. I’d never seen her this...happy before. So you’ve noticed we’re packing. We’re going to be gone a few days. I’m confident you girls can control yourselves while we’re gone. Melody will be here to look after you. Don’t tax her with pranks. Don’t run off without letting her know. In our absence treat her authority as you would treat ours.

She seemed gleeful at the prospect of being rid of us for a few days. Not a problem for me. She mostly just glowered and ordered us around, anyway. I understood it better now than as a little kid. The aunts rarely had opportunities to be Hands. The last couple of years they’d been helping to train the eighteen-year-old Kalamar brothers who were now in twin school, but other than that their job was to raise us. We were their contribution to the family. The Lady honored her Hands with such a duty, but Ivy wasn’t suited for it. That wasn’t her fault.

Yes, Aunt Ivy.

Where’s Wren?

Sleeping. I’ll tell her in the morning.

Aunt Hope fidgeted, regarding her sister through narrowed eyes. I could tell she’d lost a fight, and realized she was far from comfortable with leaving us, even under Melody’s care.

We’ll be fine, Aunt Hope, I told her firmly. I thrust my chin up. We’re not little kids. We’re almost fifteen.

She watched me for a moment. Don’t get into trouble. The Lady wouldn’t take kindly to it.

The warning was clear, but we were kids. A house empty of the aunts? Of course we’d go looking for trouble.

When they’d gone, I paced around the house for a while. Melody and my sister both slept, and I had the house to myself. I couldn’t remember ever having this level of freedom before. So what to do with it?

This late at night, I couldn’t think of much to do. I raided the kitchen, finding a stash of cocoa. I heated some milk and added sugar to a big mug. I added the cocoa to that and had a couple of minutes to wait before the milk would be ready. I looked at the stairs, already guilty at the track my thoughts had taken.

What was the harm?

I’d always known there were secrets in this house, and this was the perfect chance to uncover them.

A certain box called to me, all the way from Aunt Ivy’s room. I recalled one time when I’d followed Aunt Hope in to find Ivy sitting on her bed with that box. When we intruded, she promptly told us to get out. Highly suspicious. The box in question sat on the top of a large bookshelf, and I had to pull over the upholstered chair by her desk to reach it. My fingertips met smooth, dark wood. Its cold exterior was firm under my hands, and for a moment I paused, uncertain. But curiosity got the best of me. I heaved it off the shelf and almost toppled from the chair under its weight. What did she keep in here?

A three-part latch met my perusal, and it took me a moment to budge it open. My eyes wide, I stared down on a fabulous assortment of jewelry, encrusted in gems. One silver chain with an emerald pendant drew my eye, and I pulled it over my head, feeling inspired.

Suddenly, I remembered my milk, and ran down the stairs to retrieve it before it scalded. My timing perfect, I mixed my cocoa with satisfaction and ascended the stairs once again. Back in Ivy’s room, I couldn’t decide whether it was safe to sit on her bed. Would she know I’d been in here? Instead I closed the door and hauled her box of treasures onto the floor, my cocoa within reach on the nightstand.

Back to the box.

When I lifted the lid, the jewels caught my eye first, but papers made up most of the box’s contents. I touched a folded sheaf hesitantly. It wasn’t that I felt guilty for intruding. My concern was getting caught. If I changed the order of anything, or folded something wrong, she might know. These papers looked old, and like they’d been handled often over the years. Were the secrets worth the risk of Aunt Ivy coming down on me like a storm surge?

Yes. Still, I felt proud of myself for displaying a healthy dose of fear. My sister would have just plowed ahead, and taken the wrath when it came.

The first letter stopped me cold. I scanned the words of passion, color deepening on my cheeks. It was a love letter. Then I got to the signature.

Briggs.

One of the male Hands. He was a good ten years Aunt Ivy’s junior. Gross.

I stopped there, my entire worldview threatened. Aunt Ivy had taken Briggs as a lover. I didn’t want to know what else was in the box. I hastily refolded and replaced the stolen secret, and tugged the silver chain over my head, fingering the emerald pendant once more before shutting the lid and refastening the three-part latch. I grabbed a sweatshirt and wiped the box, trying to remove any smudges on the dark wood. I carried it back to its place.

Retreating to the darkness of my own room and the gentle sound of Wren’s breathing as she slept, I finished my cocoa, and crawled beneath the covers. Freedom was exhausting.

They just left? Wren asked, stretching her toes toward the fire the next morning.

Yeah. They had to be somewhere.

Where?

No idea. I paused. Actually, I do have an idea. I think they went to California. Aunt Hope said something about ‘they’re not doing well’ and I think she was talking about the old Hands, Isabel and Rose. They’re like eighty. Then Aunt Ivy said something about ‘disciplining our own,’ but she was really just happy to be going somewhere without us.

Wren stared at her plate of pancakes, and Melody shot me a hostile glance. She spoke up, wiping her hands on her apron and touching Wren lightly on the shoulder. My sister wasn’t a hugger. Hope left me a note. They didn’t have time for more. The Lady needed them elsewhere. And it is probably fun for Ivy. She always loved the missions, and she grows bored without them. That’s nothing against you girls. Now let’s finish our breakfast and get lessons started.

Melody did her best to match our usual routines. She gave me a talking to about the pan I’d left dirty on the stove, and the cocoa sprinkled on the counter, but at least she was good-natured about it.

Late in the afternoon, toward the end of our lessons, Melody gave each of us a lengthy writing assignment and grabbed her purse and keys.

You girls just stay inside and complete your schoolwork. I have to run to the store. The nearest grocery store was almost twenty miles up the coast in a bigger town. I’ll be back in a bit.

Wren nudged me as soon as Melody was out the door. I knew what she was thinking; that the drive and the shopping would take more than an hour. It was the perfect opportunity to get away with…something.

At least wait until she’s out of the driveway. I shook my head. We’re sure to get caught.

For ages we’d wanted to try jumping from the two-story roof. Not jumping, exactly. The trick was to engage our powers and float down. Unfortunately, we hadn’t learned that skill, not yet.

No better way than to try! Wren squealed. She dashed for the stairs. At the top of the flight, she pulled the cord for the attic hatch and scrambled up the ladder.

I didn’t bother to argue. We’d been over this. It took both of us, and despite what our elders told us, we felt ready to try.

The attic window looked out on the sloping roof, and we carefully crept out to the edge. Nerves ran riot like hummingbirds fluttering madly in my stomach. We looked down on the lawn, with the bower between the cliff and us.

Are you ready? Wren asked me softly.

I answered truthfully. Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do a test.

I stood next to her, and we extended our hands so they were nearly touching. I pressed out with my psychokinetic power, and felt a slight rebound as my power encountered the solidity of her form. Simultaneously, I felt Wren engage her power. We both rocked on our feet, but neither of us took a step. We had learned a decent degree of control. And the roof?

We both engaged and lifted off the rooftop until we hovered a few inches above it. If I pressed harder I’d rise farther. Engaging with Wren, our hands nearly touching, we were stable, but I knew if I tried this on my own I’d be unsteady in the air, like an astronaut without gravity. It took much better control to fly alone than with your twin.

Now are you ready? Wren challenged me.

In the interest of healthy sibling rivalry, I couldn’t lose face. I nodded. Ready.

We stepped off the roof, and fell. Plummeted, actually. I felt for Wren, but lost my sense of direction and couldn’t tell where she was. We couldn’t help each other, but at least we weren’t powerless. I shoved my power hard against the ground milliseconds before I hit dirt, landing on my knees with a grunt.

Wren screamed somewhere behind me, and I turned to find her. She clutched her wrist against her body and whined.

Oh, no.

I hustled to her side and got a look at the injury. It didn’t look like much, but I didn’t have x-ray vision. It might be broken. She certainly wasn’t moving it. She panted, her eyes wide and shocked. I clutched her shoulder and guided her inside.

Melody will be back in an hour, max. I’m grabbing ice, and you’re sitting on the couch until she gets here. We are in so much trouble!

Maybe I’ll be okay. Maybe she won’t know. Wren spoke with the optimism of the doomed. If she had to see a healer, we both knew the Lady would hear about it. And then Wren was toast.

Melody came back sooner than we expected, but Wren’s wrist had already started to swell.

What did you girls get up to? I was barely gone an hour. Melody wasn’t exactly composed. Her face flushed as her mind apparently went into overdrive. She knew the repercussions of us using magic without supervision.

She ran to the telephone. I couldn’t hear much besides the constant hum of her speech. I just hoped she wasn’t trying to get a message to the Lady.

Wren didn’t look good. She sat still on the couch looking at her wrist with abject despair.

Into the car, girls. Melody came back in with her car keys once again in hand.

We did as we were told. I helped Wren into the back, and ran around to the passenger side.

Where are we going? I asked, opening my mouth despite my better judgment.

To see a friend. A nurse.

Not a healer? My world rolled back onto its axis as relief coursed through me. I took a deep breath, trying not to cry.

If it’s broken, we won’t be able to keep it from the Lady. So let’s just see how this goes, shall we?

She was right. A break would be obvious and require a bunch of recovery time. Even with Melody’s help, we wouldn’t be able to hide it from the aunts, who would never hide anything from the Lady.

We drove about twenty minutes up the coastal highway before Melody took a tight turn onto a gravel road. We passed a few houses, widely spaced, and the ocean view popped out as we came around a curve. Melody stopped at a two-story cabin, its cedar shake worn gray by salt air and storm. A nice house, typical for the area. It could have been a vacation house, but for the abundance of blooms pouring out of old barrels, and the cushioned chairs turned just so on the porch. Those things called it out as someone’s home among the vacation houses.

I turned my gaze toward the ocean. A wide strip of beach spread out beyond a rocky outcropping. I could see a little stream sparkling in the distance as it wound its way over the dark gray sand to the waves.

A tall and striking middle-aged woman came out onto the porch. Melody went up the steps and the woman kissed her before waving my sister inside.

I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the kiss. It wasn’t the two women thing; it was that I’d never seen Melody that way, as an individual with desires that had nothing to do with caring for us. Suddenly, I understood what she’d given up to live with us. How lonely must her life be?

That made me think of Aunt Ivy, and the secret I’d learned just last night. The Lady didn’t let them love openly. They served her with everything they had. At this moment, that seemed exceedingly cruel.

It turned out Wren had sprained her wrist. Rotating ice, and heat, and wrapping the joint to avoid jolting it were Angela’s recommendations. We all breathed a sigh of relief when we got back in the car. Neither Wren nor I mentioned the kiss. I wondered if my sister had even noticed.

Chapter Four

When Ivy and Hope returned two days later, it was to retrieve us. Isabel and Rose, the family’s twin matriarchs, had passed away.

It was to be one of the biggest family reunions in my lifetime. Queen witches from across the country and around the world would gather on a large farm in California to celebrate the lives of Isabel and Rose, taken by old age on the same day at eighty-six – a rare age among Hands.

The California farm was also where the Lady’s Hands, Majesty and Terra, lived.

All of the Hands had agreed to arrive early, and even though we used the Lady’s portals so the journey took only a few minutes, we were the last to arrive for dinner the night before the funeral.

When it was my turn I stepped up to the portal as I had many times before. The smooth, opaque surface resembled liquid glass, rippling every so often like a pond touched by a light wind. My stomach lurched as I stepped between places. It felt the same every time. And it was that fast, just a step. The portal released us into a patch of woods, where a chorus of birds shouted our arrival. We took the packed-dirt path that led into the backyard of the cheerily yellow two-story farmhouse. A pang of regret stopped me in my tracks, and Wren frowned as she walked around me. Aunt Hope, however, paused to put an arm around me. I know. It’s hard.

A moment ago, I thought… I hiccupped as tears threatened. I thought maybe Rose had made her chocolate chip cookies with walnuts. She knew they were my favorite.

Aunt Hope smiled, and tugged me along the path toward the house. She was sweet. But if you stepped on her toes in her kitchen – look out!

I giggled with her as we caught up with the others. The ache that had bloomed in my heart at seeing the bright yellow house I’d visited since I was a small child eased, at least a little bit.

Aunt Ivy led the way around the house and hastened inside, where I could hear her shout, What smells so good? Who learned to cook?

Wren and I grimaced in silent commiseration at her tacky sense of humor, and trudged along at the back of our group. I shut the door quietly behind me, but the noise inside was such that no one would have noticed a door slamming. The house did smell good; like apple pie fresh from the oven. Gemini, now one of the eldest Hands, darted out to give hugs before retreating to check on the food. Melody followed her, offering to help.

Maj, as she had asked us to call her, greeted us enthusiastically. Maj always seemed like she was having fun. The Foulweather twins arrive! she exclaimed. Quite a name you’ve made for yourselves already.

It’s a place name, I reminded her. We don’t attempt to control the weather.

That’s good; it is magic beyond your age and station. But soon, my girls, you’ll start twin school and we’ll begin to make that name a reality.

A rush ran through me. I’d never thought of taking that name and making it my own. But she was right. I could do so. If we could shatter boulders with our minds and make an earthen storm from bare ground…the possibilities were mind-boggling.

Aunt Hope tugged Maj into a tight embrace and Terra, Maj’s twin, got pulled in too. It’s so good to see you. How are you?

I chuckled. Apparently the maternal streak ran deep. Aunt Hope treated these younger Hands like her kids, too. Despite the fact they’d just lost the eldest among them, it was obvious they were happy to be together. It was rare that they were all in the same place.

I’m fine. Maj tried to look convincing, but I caught the guarded look that passed between them. She turned back to me. So, only two more years until twin school! She grinned.

Actually, we’ll be fifteen soon, so just a little more than a year.

It’ll go by in a flash. You’re gonna see a lot of me when the time comes, isn’t that right, Dagru? She pointed at one of the Kalamar brothers. Dagru and his brother Arie were in the middle of twin school now. As tradition dictated, they’d lived here with the Hands who were training them since they turned sixteen. Dagru shot Maj a grin and nodded.

I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was tall, with a straight nose and a strong jaw, and this complete confidence, like he could take on whatever came his way. His stylish clothes and the long, curly hair that touched his shoulders made him seem so grown up.

I felt awkward all of a sudden, and wished I’d taken more care with my appearance. People were going to be looking at me a lot, after all. Did I look like just some kid, or like I had some measure of confidence, like Dagru?

Maj turned back to me. Whenever we’re not on mission, you’re the mission, kid. Twin school involves all of us. Everyone has different skills to pass along. Who knows what’ll strike your fancy, or what you’ll be good at.

The idea of having all of them around passing things along sounded pretty overwhelming. There were four pairs of Hands. Gemini and Garnet were the eldest now, the matriarchs of the family. The aunts, Hope and Ivy, came next.

Godwin and Briggs were the only serving male Hands, and Maj and Terra were a few years younger than the men. This made them especially valuable, because they were close enough in age that they’d grown in their powers together. A brother-set and sister-set of twins were essentially a small army, bonding in a foursome that made them even more powerful.

The Kalamars would take their vows and begin serving the Lady within two years, when they came of age. Wren and I were just four years younger than the Kalamars, and the hope was we’d bond with them as our brother-set after twin school.

There was a gaping twelve-year gap between us and the babies. They were nearing two, but we still called them the babies. We knew them from pictures – a set of tiny girls with blond ringlets and blue eyes named Iris and Mabel – but they weren’t here tonight.

Dinner was really more of a feast. Roasted pheasant, grilled salmon, fresh baked bread, salads, and my favorite mashed potato casserole that Aunt Hope had brought. Sparkling wines, and ciders for us kids, flowed freely. The conversation got freer as the night wore on, too. Multiple side conversations teased my ears with half-known names and the tinge of gossip. For every snippet I caught, I missed something else.

In the cacophony, I thought of home, of my stormy cliff-top and havens in the woods and on the beach. I was suddenly glad I had more than a year before twin school. Genuine love filled this room, but I didn’t feel a part of that yet.

Wren was already nodding off when Aunt Hope sent me to find Aunt Ivy. I was happy to oblige, still wired from the busy house and all the twin magic. I’d learned some nifty new tricks I couldn’t wait to try out with Wren, though some of them I was more likely to try on my own first. It would just be safer that way.

With the funeral tomorrow, no one had bothered leaving the farm. The house was crowded. Hope and Ivy had been assigned a room upstairs, and Wren and I would sleep on their floor.

I heard low voices in the living room, and stepped lightly because I knew people were already sleeping.

No. He’s gone. That was Maj, her voice hitched for a moment as though she’d been crying. Ivy, I think he got himself in some trouble and…please, if you know anything…you’d tell me, right?

What makes you think he’s gone? I’d found Aunt Ivy, and the icy dread spreading through my veins said I’d stumbled on more than I’d bargained for.

It’s just like the others. Moodiness, sullenness at the Lady’s orders. Conflicts within the family. Then he just disappears. Ivy, you must tell me if…did the Lady… Her voice wavered again. What could have made one of the most confident women in our family sound that way?

I hope you’re not suggesting what it sounds like you’re suggesting. Ivy gave that pregnant pause she liked to use to shame Wren and me into behaving. A Hand’s son disappears? It must have been Chaos.

Chaos? The Prince among immortals who had foiled the Lady’s will centuries ago? The idea they were talking about him was so exciting; I craned my neck trying to hear better without drawing attention to where I stood, right outside the door. Apparently Chaos was some sort of threat or annoyance to the Lady to this day.

Chaos witches were like the antithesis of the Queen witches. They were unpredictable, utterly uncontrolled. They exploited their powers whenever and however they chose, as individuals.

Queen witches didn’t dare use their powers in ways the Queen of Peace had deemed inappropriate, which mostly meant anything that could draw notice from outside authorities. The Lady’s wrath would descend on them faster than they could blink an eye, in the form of a Hand sent to mete out her justice. A Queen witch’s power was the Lady’s to use, or not use, as she chose.

I would never tell my family, but I was conflicted about the Lady’s methods of control. When Wren went off the handle, I thought maybe the Lady had a point. Our powers were dangerous, after all, in the wrong hands. Still, I longed to be trusted to make my own decisions, and for that reason I could count my blessings that I’d been born a twin. I would have the best of chances to prove myself worthy and earn a certain measure of independence.

I am sure he’ll turn up, and if not… At her pause I took one silent step forward, and saw Aunt Ivy shrug her shoulders.

A wave of dark fury crossed Maj’s features. Oh, so he’s expendable, is he? Well, not to me! Damn the Lady if she says so.

Now, now. Aunt Ivy’s low