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Authors: J. F. Jenkins

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BOOK: Appointed
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The movie was still playing, but Anj had a sneaking suspicion it was the end credits because he could only hear music. There weren't any other ambient noises, only bass thumping through the subwoofers accompanied by some kind of rap song. Whatever it was, it was giving Anj a headache, another reason he didn't like to go downstairs into Zes's lair. His brother liked everything loud.

He turned left three steps after the last stair, kept going straight until he felt the cool metal of the washing machine with his hand, and then turned left again. Zes's door was closed. Anj knocked.

“Give me a minute,” Zes called back. There was some shuffling going on in the room, no doubt cleaning so Anj could enter without having to worry about tripping over something.

Waiting about a minute, Anj slowly opened the door. “Is it safe now?”

“Should be,” Zes said from his bed. “What's up? Shouldn't you be all cutesy and cuddly with Jewl right now? Don't even pretend you aren't together again, because Chey and I saw you two making out in the kitchen.”

“We weren't making out. We kissed. There's a difference, and I'm not denying anything. I came downstairs because Mom called and she's coming home tonight.”

“Oh.” The disappointment in his brother's voice was obvious, because his tone became low and his volume quiet. Anj almost didn't hear it over the music of the movie.

“That's how I felt as well. At least we had one day, right?”

“Yeah… I'll be upstairs soon. I just woke up from a… nap, so I need to take a shower.”

“Kind of sweaty and gross in here,” Anj said. He'd noticed the smell right away. Zes's room always had a kind of peculiar smell to it since he let his dirty clothes linger all over the room for a while. Sometimes there was old food in there too. But something was different this time. More sweat? More something was in the air.

Anj shook his head. “When was the last time you washed your bed sheets?”

“Um… a while.” There was shifting in the bed, a lot of movement actually.

“Speaking of being couplish, where is Chey anyway? Why aren't you with her?” Anj asked with a frown.

“She fell asleep on the couch. I came in to read then fell asleep too,” Zes said.

Doesn't quite make sense to me.
Anj stood in the doorway, and he wondered if maybe it was time to go. He turned around so he could head back the way he'd come.

“You don't need to rush. The house isn't messy anyway. I just wanted you to know so you could mentally prepare yourself for Mom being, well, Mom,” he said on his way out.

“Thanks, I'll be up soon anyway to start on dinner,” Zes said.

Anj went back up the stairs. The instant his foot stepped onto the linoleum of the kitchen floor, he could see colors. What he saw wasn't his kitchen floor, however, but the thrones of the Elders. He wasn't using any magic either. He was having a vision.

Not now. I'm not even sleeping.
But the Elders appeared before him anyway, as real as if they were physically standing in front of him. Never before had he had a vision while awake, so he wasn't quite sure what to do. If he moved, would his physical body react too?

“What's going on?” Anj asked, hoping the Elders would answer. All three stared straight ahead. Footsteps could be heard from behind him, and someone passed through his body — his dead father. Startled, Anj stumbled backward and was grateful to find a wall for support.

Neil sat up straighter at the sight of Anj's father. “Ilo, hello.”

“Don't act so surprised to see me. You invited me,” his father said.

“Yes, we did. We have been discussing everything. It's time.”

“He's way too young for this. You know most Fates do not come into the gift until they're at least fifteen. It's part of the ethics code, to not put the burden on someone who's so innocent.”

“Unless circumstances allow for it,” Neil said. “Which they do. The Divine council is having another meeting as we speak to discuss the situation regarding the heir of Hades.”

“I'm sure they are, but what does this have to do with my son Anj?” his father snapped. Anj blinked with shock. The memories of his father were all filled with the image of a peaceful man who hardly ever raised his voice. Plus, the boldness he exhibited toward the Elders was astonishing. None of the other Fates Anj had met had ever been so disrespectful toward them. What was even more amazing was how afraid the Elders were of his father.

Neil took in a deep breath and held it, before slowly letting it go. “The boy is powerful.”

Ilo rolled his eyes. “Of course he is. Ninety-nine Fates were murdered the day of his conception and filled him with their power.”

“And one hundred will be within him when his power comes into its full manifestation. The sooner we teach him how to harness these abilities, the better it will be for everyone,” Francis said calmly.

“I know this, but there's no reason to rush,” Ilo insisted.

“Actually… ” Kale glanced at the other Elders before continuing, “… there are things going on in the Divine council that make it necessary for him to have his full power. The events he will see could help us protect the normal humans better.”

“Our purpose is to make sure the Divine do not abuse their power. It's why we can spy on them, learn from their past mistakes, and see their future ambitions. Without this check and balance, the Divine could do a number of different things. Like, for example, make deals with the demons,” Francis said.

“Oh wait, they already did that,” Kale added.

Ilo closed his eyes. “He's only seven years old.”

“Which gives us ten years of lessons instead of only three. Not to mention the time it will take for him to adjust to the gift,” Neil said. “I know—”

The vision faded, and Anj was brought back to darkness.

“Anj, are you okay? Please, answer me!” Zes pleaded, his hand on Anj's shoulder. Somehow Anj had ended up on the floor with his back resting against the wall.

He blinked a few times, then Anj slowly nodded. “I'm fine. Low blood pressure. Nothing serious.”

“I don't have low blood pressure,” Zes said.

“Neither do I, normally, but the weather sometimes messes around with it. I think there's another cold front coming through.” It was probably the lamest lie Anj could have come up with to cover the truth, but he panicked.

Zes was frowning; Anj could tell because his brother's hand tensed on his shoulder.

He clearly didn't believe Anj, but he let it go. “Are chicken nuggets okay for dinner tonight?”

“Sure,” Anj said, and felt Jewl's soft skin slide against his hand. She gave it a squeeze, and both she and his brother helped him stand again.

“Let's go back to the couch,” Jewl said, and led him to the living room. She put a hand to his chest and gently used it to force him to lie down.

“What happened?” she asked.

Anj shook his head, closing his eyes. “Ask me again later.”

 

Chapter Four

 

Just as Zes expected, when his mother came home from whatever business trip she was on, she made sure to keep him away from his girlfriend. After all, Anj was the one who should be dating the Divine girl, not him. So Zes spent most of his time over the next day in the basement with his video games, and Jewl was by his side. She made for a good partner, but it was a bonding experience he'd rather be sharing with Cheyenne. Yet saying no to his mother was hard. Anj had some kind of plan, per usual, and it was to appease the woman until Christmas Eve night.

When it came to holidays, Zes loved Christmas the most. All of the relatives came over, but he also got to spend time with his mother, and he felt rewarded for all of the work he put into the house. He was reminded that he was worthwhile. It was silly but important to have, all the same.

Christmas Eve came a lot faster than he expected. The doorbell rang, and he ran up the stairs to answer it, leaving Jewl behind to save their game and turn off the console system.

“Grandma!” He gave the sixty-year-old African American woman a huge hug, and then did the same to the older African American man standing next to her.

His grandmother stroked his dark hair and played with the small satyr horns hidden in it before kissing his forehead. “You are such a man now, even more so than at Thanksgiving. Will you ever stop growing up?”

Zes laughed, feeling his cheeks get a little hot, because he
was
more of a man since Thanksgiving. Not something he wanted to broadcast, though. “Come on in. I'll take your coats.”

While he hung up everyone's winter wear, Anj stood and waved everyone into the living room to get comfortable. Both grandparents gave him hugs and kisses as well before greeting Cheyenne, who was sitting on the couch. Jewl had come upstairs by now and also sat down on the couch. The festivities would begin soon. Zes could tell Cheyenne was nervous, so he gave her an encouraging smile. She'd already won the family over during Thanksgiving break, so he wasn't quite sure why she was shifting so anxiously where she sat.

“Zes, can you please go to the kitchen to work on dinner?” his mother asked.

“Sure thing.” He smiled although he couldn't help but be disappointed. Christmas Eve dinner was always one of his duties. In the morning, Anj would help their mother with breakfast. That was how they divided up the cooking for the holiday.

Zes did most of the cooking in the house, period. Somehow he'd inherited his mother's natural ability to work around the kitchen. He could make just about anything he had a recipe for, which was not a talent Anj had been given. Not that his brother was bad, but his culinary skills were limited because their mother had a tendency to hold him back so much.

Zes went into the kitchen, not interrupting his brother, who was busy telling some kind of a story. He didn't want to leave Cheyenne alone, but otherwise, he didn't care too much. His extended family gave him a lot of attention, and he loved them for it, but sometimes he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Unlike his brother, Zes didn't enjoy being in the spotlight. Getting away to put the final touches on dinner was a good thing.

“Want some help?” Cheyenne asked softly, and touched his arm with her hand, startling him. She'd slipped in quietly without him noticing.

“I think I've got a handle on everything. There isn't a whole lot to do outside of use my magic touch,” he teased, and wiggled his fingers at her. “But I wouldn't mind the company. I know you don't do too well with strangers.”

“Thanks,” she said, and watched as he stirred a pot, turned down the stove, and then checked on everything in the oven. The way she played with her hands in front of her suggested something was on her mind.

Glancing over his shoulder at her with a smile, he made eye contact. “Yes?”

“No, it's nothing. Not my business.” She shook her head.

“Sure it is. If you want to know something, ask, okay?” He pulled the serving dishes out of the cupboards.

“I just noticed your grandparents on your dad's side of the family are, well… and the pictures from when you were little. I mean, he's—”

“Black? It's okay, you can say it.” He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

“Right, but you and your brother aren't, like at all. And your mom is white, so I get that you look like her too, but usually there's some kind of mix? So I was just wondering if, like, I don't know, you were adopted or how that worked?”

“Dad wasn't our biological father,” he said casually, then added, “but Mom is our actual mother. I'll try to keep the story short. Basically, Mom was attacked by a satyr, and that's where we get most of our genetics from. She's a sprite of many elements, which is where we get our magic. I guess he was out of control. Sometimes satyrs can get drunk on their emotions, and it makes them do some not-so-great things. Can't say I know a lot about the guy outside of, he went to jail. I've never seen a picture, and I don't think I want to. We pretend he doesn't exist. Anyway, Mom and Dad were already married when that happened, had been for a few years.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Cheyenne said.

“Yeah, it sucks, but at the same time, I mean, I'm happy to be alive. You know what I mean? Dad never held it against Anj and me. Maybe at first he thought we were his, but even after they figured it out? He still gave us names from his heritage.”

She smiled at him. “I was wondering where your names were from. So they're what?”

“African. My full name is Zesiro, which means oldest of twins, and Anj's full name is Banji, which is second born of twins. It's pretty cool. Dad's side of the family is into naming with a purpose. Dad's name was Ilo, which means joyous light, or something like that. He believed a name defines a person. And he was definitely a joyful person.” Zes returned her smile sadly.

It'd been a long time since he'd last gotten to talk about his father in such detail, the ones he could remember, at least. Cheyenne hugged him from behind.

“So you're the older one?”

“Six minutes and fifty-seven seconds. The only thing I've beaten my brother at. Oh, and I was bigger in size too. Had about a pound and a half of weight on him.”

Cheyenne shook her head. “Boys. Why do you always have to make everything a competition?”

He shrugged. “Just what we do, I guess.”

“What about your mom's family? I've only met your dad's side,” she said, and helped him put the mashed potatoes into a bowl.

“Mom's parents died while she was in college. She's an only child. I don't know a whole lot about her side, to be honest.”

“Outside of your mom being a sprite?” Her blue eyes glittered under the lights. He adored her thirst for knowledge. The enthusiasm she had made it easier for him to talk about things that were otherwise uncomfortable.

“Yeah, she's one who can control all of the elements. Anj and I only got one a piece, but I'm not going to complain. I don't think I could handle more than one.”

“She's powerful. I mean, controlling a lot of elements would make her strong, right?”

“Yeah, she's pretty potent.”

“So are you. Isn't that what you always tell me?”

“Only in earth magic, but yeah.” He grabbed a stack of plates and handed them to Cheyenne. “Want to help set the table?”

She took them from him and kissed his cheek just as the oven timer went off. Perfect timing, because Zes definitely did not like to discuss his magic. It scared him a lot, but he'd never admit to it.

“Soup's on,” he called to everyone, bringing out the dishes one at a time.

Grandma came up to him and ruffled his hair. “It smells amazing, like always. You taught this one well, Cynthia. I don't know how many times I tried to get Ilo to do anything in the kitchen. Always a disaster.”

“Zes is like a sponge. He picks up on things fast,” his mother said, and actually smiled. If only he could freeze the moment so he could sit in it a little longer.

Shrugging sheepishly, he finished setting the table then helped his mother, grandma, and Cheyenne into their chairs and took a seat next to his brother. Cheyenne was across from Anj, and Jewl was across from him as if they had played girlfriend swap for the night. At least he could see Cheyenne this time. Thanksgiving, she'd been placed in between his mother and Anj on the opposite end of the table from him.

“Okay, honey, do you want a lot of potatoes, or just a little?” his mom asked as she prepared to serve Anj. Zes was surprised she was even asking what he wanted. Usually, she just plopped things onto the plate.

Anj tapped his fingers on the tabletop, which he only did when he was annoyed. “I can—” he started, and then sighed. “Somewhere in between. The potatoes are my favorite.”

“And ham too?”

“Yes, ham too.”

At least there wasn't anything on the menu either of the twins didn't like. Zes had taken the initiative to create the perfect dinner years ago, and it stuck. Green bean casserole, garlic mashed potatoes with cheese, ham, and candied yams made up the selection. Sometimes their mother would also add in a salad of some kind, and his grandparents were responsible for bringing dessert.

Everything went much better than at Thanksgiving, which had almost been disastrous. Their mother had practically spoon-fed Anj the entire meal. Sometimes her depression got the better of her. It wouldn't have been so bad if the food had been better. Neither of the twins was particularly fond of corn, cranberries, or turkey, three things she loved and had tried to make Anj love just as much that day. Her random behavior was why Zes tried to control as much of what went on in the house as possible. He couldn't control her mouth, though.

“Cheyenne, do you celebrate
any
holidays with your family?” his mother asked. An innocent-enough question, but from her mouth it was only filled with agenda. She had some kind of strange obsession with Cheyenne's parents because they were Divine.

“I used to,” Cheyenne said, and ate more food, clearly not wanting to talk about her family situation.

Zes certainly wouldn't if he were in her shoes. She'd just found out she had been raised by a foster mother her entire life, a woman posing as her real mom. Cheyenne had only met her birth parents one time and only for a handful of days. Everything she had ever known had become a lie and at record-breaking speed.

“You need to invite them to join us sometime. It'd be the perfect way to spend the occasion. Then you wouldn't have to be away from my boy or them.” His mother smiled, batting her eyelashes like she was the one trying to woo Cheyenne.

Zes couldn't help but roll his eyes and shoveled more potatoes into his mouth to keep from speaking.
Convenient of her to say “my boy” instead of use my name like she's still holding out on Cheyenne hooking up with Anj.
He scowled.

Cheyenne eyed him from across the table, taking a pause from eating to speak. “I'll mention it to them next time.”

What Cheyenne didn't tell everyone was how she had tried to get her parents to spend more time with her over the holiday, but they had declined. Zes had been with her when she called the phone number they'd left to “keep in touch.” After a run-around with a number of her mother's staff, Cheyenne finally reached her only to receive a cold shoulder and lots of excuses. Her mother, the goddess Persephone, was a known recluse amongst the Divine. It was a shame Cheyenne had to be on the receiving end of it too.

Anj came to the rescue. “You know, Mom, you never did tell us about your business meeting in Chicago.”

“It went well,” their mother replied, still watching Cheyenne.

“What's the city like? Is it as big as I hear?”

“Bigger than I can describe, dear.”

“Please try? I'd really like to know.” And he was able to keep her engaged for the rest of dinner by asking her a plethora of annoying questions, like what being two-thousand feet high looked like and what colors she had seen in the river. Zes couldn't have been more grateful when it came time to clear the table.

He gathered up the dirty plates from everyone and brought them to the kitchen.

“Oh, Cheyenne honey, don't worry about helping. Zes can handle it,” he heard his mother say.

Cheyenne was forcing herself to be polite, he could tell. When she responded, her voice was terse. “It would make me happy to be of assistance, but thank you.”

When she walked into the kitchen and their eyes met, he laughed. “You sure told her. Not afraid to pull the diva card, huh?”

“I wasn't being a diva. Okay, maybe a little, but there's only so much more of her I'm going to be able to take.” Cheyenne nudged him away from the sink and got busy.

“You don't actually have to help. You know that, right?” He rinsed a plate she had given him.

Cheyenne sighed heavily. “I know. This was always my favorite chore back home. I like it. It's—”

“Therapeutic?” he finished for her, and she nodded.

Zes chewed on his lower lip as he debated whether or not he should say what he wanted to. The last thing he needed to do was keep talking about a sore subject, but he was worried about her. Maybe she was finally ready to start talking about “back home” more.

“Did you call your foster mom?” he asked casually, testing the water.

“No,” she replied.

“Just wondering, since it's Christmas,” he said. Then he quickly added, “You know, in case you were feeling sort of generous and forgiving enough to at least wish her that much. But I know you're still mad at her for lying to you.”

“It's more than just her lying to me. She was purposefully trying to keep me away from my real family. Now I'm nothing more than a stranger to them, and they don't want anything to do with me.” She sniffled then ran a hand over her eyes.

BOOK: Appointed
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