Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

I hadn’t looked at my phone all day, and it was only when I pulled it from my pocket that I saw all the missed calls and texts. I’d switched it to silent mode before meeting Peter, and evidently, that was a bad idea.

“We’ve been worried sick,” said Uncle Alvie, coming to join Mum in fussing over me. “We thought something had happened to you.”

“Nothing happened to me, so please can everyone just relax,” I said, stepping away from them.

“Where were you then?” Dad questioned, his tone severe. He was very obviously pissed. “You weren’t with Grace.”

“I just went for a walk.”

“You’ve been walking for three hours?” His expression said it all. He didn’t believe me. My cheeks reddened. I hated lying to my parents, but I knew they wouldn’t be happy to hear I’d spent the afternoon with Peter Girard, not after the stink Peter Senior kicked up on New Year’s Eve when all I’d done was exchange a few words (and okay, a few longing glances) with his son.

“She’s blushing,” Uncle Alvie pointed out. “Sweetie, do you have a boyfriend you snuck off to see or something?”

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend, Dad,” Grace said, pushing off the counter as she came to my defence. “If she did, I’d know about it.”

“I can confirm that I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend for that matter,” I said, hating being interrogated like this. I’d always had free reign to wander the city, but now it seemed my parents had decided to get strict.

“Then where exactly were you?” Aunt Delilah asked, her bright, curly red hair hanging long past her shoulders.

I squeezed my eyes shut, then decided to tell them the truth insofar as I could, purposefully leaving Peter out of the story. “I went to the Market Below to see a warlock named Clay Kanumba.”

“He sells spells,” Rita said. “Why would you want to buy a spell? Your mother or I would be happy to cast one for you for free.”

Unwilling to tell them about Peter’s and mine telepathy or how Clay was a friend of Peter’s, I replied, “I didn’t want to worry you in case it was nothing.”

“In case what was nothing?” Mum asked, her eyes, a blue almost identical to mine, narrowing in concern.

I blew out a breath and went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a long gulp. Then, I told them everything that Clay had told me, about being marked by a demon not of this realm, about my future veering off its course, the whole lot.

The room fell into silence when I finished speaking. My father was the first to respond.

“First things first, I’ll be driving you to and from school for the foreseeable future.”

“What? No. I can drive myself. And besides, Rebecca comes with me now. It’s not like I’ll be alone in the car.”

“You might not be strong enough to defend yourselves if attacked,” Dad countered. “We don’t know the strength of the demon who marked you.”

“Dad’s right,” Rebecca piped up. “This demon could be hundreds or even thousands of years old.”

I deflated because she was right. As much as I disliked the idea of being escorted to and from school by my parents, I understood their concerns.

“Fine. You can drive me to school, but in exchange, I want to know about the prophecy. I can tell you’re holding back.” I watched as my parents exchanged a tense look, silently communicating. Mum blew out a slow breath.

“When you were a baby, we agreed it was better not to tell you, to let you carve your own path without the burden of knowing what the future had in store,” she explained before continuing, “You know Mr. Roe’s wife, Allora?”

I nodded. “The clairvoyant elf?”

“Yes, well, she had a vision about you when I was pregnant during the war. She prophesied that you would one day become a great ruler who would bring peace to the city.”

I frowned. “But that can’t be true. There’s already peace.”

“Not entirely,” Dad said. “There have always been dissenters, older supernaturals who disagree that the city should be open for all to roam freely. If they had their way, they would bring back segregation. There have never been enough of them to begin a movement, but there are enough to be concerned about. The Guard keeps tabs on them. So far, they’ve been relatively quiet, but we never know when they might decide to grow their numbers and get organised.”

“So, you think there’s going to be another war and that I … that I will be the one to bring peace?” My stomach quivered with a strange sense of anxiety. I didn’t want to rule. I’d always aspired to be a soldier while someone else gave the orders.

“Nobody can be entirely sure what will happen,” Rita replied. “But predictions are never set in stone. There are always variables, and if what Clay Kanumba told you today is to be believed, this demon who marked you is a variable we need to be ready for.”