#siphon

They eventually collapsed under the shade of a massive weeping willow, chest heaving and faces flushed. Kai rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to look at his sister.

"Do you think he’ll let us start tonight?" Kai asked, his eyes bright with a hunger he couldn't quite name. "Dad said ten is when the real tether forms. That’s today, Jo. We’re ten."

Jo smiled, picking a stray leaf out of her hair. "He has to. We’re the twins. The Coven is basically waiting for us to grow up so we can run things. Imagine it, Kai. We’ll be able to move the clouds if we want to."

Kai reached out, tentatively locking his pinky finger with hers. The contact was harmless then—just skin on skin, a brother and sister making a pact. He didn't feel the void yet, and she didn't feel the sting.

"Promise me something," Kai said, his voice dropping to a serious, childish whisper. "Promise that no matter how powerful we get, or how many spells they make us learn, we do it all together. No secrets. Just us."

Jo squeezed his finger tight, her expression mirroring his intensity. "I promise. We’re two halves of the same soul, Kai. That’s what Mom says. You’ll never have to do magic alone, because I’ll always be right there to hold your hand."

Kai beamed, a rare, genuine warmth spreading through him. In that moment, the future looked like a kingdom they were going to build side-by-side. He imagined the sparks they would create, the way the elements would bow to them, and the pride he would finally see in his father's eyes.

"Let's go inside," Kai said, jumping to his feet and pulling her up with him. "I don't want to waste another second. I want to feel it. I want to see what I can do."

They ran toward the house, hand-in-hand, two children standing on the precipice of a discovery that would change everything they had just promised.

The screen door slapped shut behind them, a sharp wooden crack that echoed through the high-ceilinged hallway. They didn't slow down, their sneakers squeaking on the polished hardwood as they burst into the study.

Joshua Parker was sitting behind his heavy mahogany desk, a stack of leather-bound grimoires open before him. He looked up, and for a moment, the stern lines of his face softened. He wasn't the cold leader of the Coven in this moment; he was a father watching his children cross a threshold he had been waiting for since the day they were born.

"There they are," Joshua said, his voice warm and resonant. He stood up, rounding the desk with a grace that felt both powerful and welcoming. He reached out, ruffling Kai’s messy hair and giving Jo a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I could hear the pair of you halfway across the county. I take it you haven't forgotten what day it is?"

"We’re ten, Dad!" Kai exclaimed, his chest puffing out. "You said ten is the year. You said we’d start the real lessons."

Joshua laughed—a genuine, rich sound that filled the room. "I did indeed. And I’m a man of my word. Come here, both of you."

He led them over to a small circular table near the window, where the late afternoon light filtered through the glass in dusty, golden beams. On the table sat two simple white candles in silver holders. Joshua pulled out chairs for them, his movements patient and kind.

"Today isn't about power," Joshua explained, leaning down so he was eye-level with them. "It’s about the connection. Between the two of you, and between your spirits and the world around you. You’ve both grown so much. I can’t tell you how proud it makes me to see you standing here, ready to take your place."

Jo beamed, her eyes darting to Kai, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Joshua placed a hand on each of their backs, a steady, grounding presence.

"The Gemini Coven is built on unity," Joshua whispered. "And you two... you are the heart of that unity. Are you ready to see the spark?"

Kai nodded vigorously, his hands resting on the table, fingers twitching. He looked at the candle, then at his father’s smiling face, feeling like he was finally about to become the person he was always meant to be.

Kai leaned back slightly, his eyes dancing with a restless energy. He wanted to grab the candle, to be the first one to prove himself, to see that spark ignite under his own command. But he looked over at Jo. She was biting her lower lip, her small hands trembling just a fraction as they hovered near the wick. The confidence she’d had under the willow tree had wavered now that the heavy grimoires and their father’s expectant gaze were actually upon them.

Kai reached out and gave her elbow a quick, encouraging nudge. "Go ahead, Jo," he whispered, his voice soft and surprisingly patient. "You first. I want to see how you do it so I can do it even better."

Joshua chuckled, his hand resting warmly on Kai’s shoulder. "A true gentleman, Malachai. Very well, Josette. Don't be afraid of the power. It's already a part of you. Just breathe, and tell the flame to wake up."

Jo took a deep, shaky breath. She closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in deep concentration. For a long, silent moment, nothing happened. Then, a faint, rhythmic humming seemed to vibrate from the table itself. A tiny, golden spark leapt from the air, catching the wick. With a soft whoosh, the candle bloomed into a perfect, steady light.

"I did it!" Jo gasped, her eyes snapping open, shimmering with a mix of shock and pure joy. "Dad, did you see?"

"I saw," Joshua said, his face radiating a pride that made the whole room feel warmer. "Beautifully done. Natural. Fluid. You have a gift for the hearth, Josette."

He turned his smile toward Kai, and for the first time in his life, Kai felt like he was standing in the center of the world. He was so happy for his sister, but he was starving for that same look of approval. He wanted to feel that hum in his own blood.

"Alright, my boy," Joshua said, stepping closer to Kai’s side of the table. "Your turn. Match your sister’s light. Show us that Parker fire."

Kai nodded, a determined grin splitting his face. He rubbed his palms together, feeling the heat of his own excitement. He didn't have a doubt in the world. He closed his eyes, mimicking Jo exactly, reaching deep inside himself for the spark his father talked about. He waited for the hum. He waited for the warmth to rise from his chest to his fingertips.

But inside, there was only a hollow, heavy stillness.

Kai squeezed his eyes shut so tight he saw stars behind his eyelids. He reached for the warmth Jo had described, but the harder he reached, the more he felt like he was grasping at thin air. The silence in the room became deafening. The rhythmic humming he’d heard when Jo was practicing didn't come for him. There was just the sound of his own heavy breathing and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

"Come on, Malachai," Joshua said, his voice still encouraging but slightly more expectant. "Just a flicker. Don't overthink it. It's in your blood."

Kai tried again. He strained until his face turned red, his small hands clenching into white-knuckled fists on the table. Nothing. The wick stayed cold and black. He opened one eye, looking at the dead candle, then up at his father’s face. The pride he had seen there just moments ago was starting to fade into a look of quiet confusion.

"I can't," Kai whispered, his voice cracking. "Dad, it’s not there. I’m trying, I promise I’m trying."

A hot tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. He felt a wave of crushing shame. He was ten. He was a Parker. This was supposed to be his birthright. Joshua sighed, the sound hitting Kai like a physical blow.

"Sometimes," Joshua said, his tone shifting to something more clinical, less fatherly, "the spark takes longer to surface in some than others. Perhaps you just aren't ready."

The disappointment in his father's voice was too much. Kai put his head in his hands, a sob breaking through. Immediately, Jo was there. She couldn't stand to see him hurt. She reached out and grabbed both of his hands in hers, squeezing them tight to comfort him.

"It’s okay, Kai," she murmured. "We’ll just do it together like we said—"

But as soon as their skin met, the atmosphere in the room snapped.

Jo’s eyes went wide. The comfort she meant to give turned into a sharp, jagged scream. Her face drained of color as if something were being physically pulled out of her.

"Kai! Let go! It hurts!" she shrieked, her body jerking.

Joshua’s face contorted with alarm. "Malachai, release her!" He lunged forward, grabbing Jo by the shoulders and ripping her away from Kai’s grip.

In that split second of contact—just as Joshua pulled them apart—the white candle in front of Kai didn't just light; it exploded into a violent, hungry pillar of flame that scorched the ceiling. The heat was immense, a raw and wild energy that didn't feel like the steady "hearth" magic Jo had used.

The room fell into a terrifying silence, save for the crackling of the oversized flame and Jo’s frantic sobbing as she collapsed against her father. Joshua stared at the towering fire, then looked down at Kai’s hands, which were still buzzing with a strange, stolen electricity.

The warmth was gone from Joshua’s eyes. He looked at Kai not as a son, but as a broken thing.

"You didn't have a spark of your own," Joshua whispered, his voice cold and hollow. "You took hers. You’re a siphon, Malachai."

He pulled Jo closer to him, shielding her, while Kai sat alone at the table, the fire he had stolen casting long, dancing shadows across his terrified face.

The next morning, the house was silent in a way Kai had never felt before. There was no smell of breakfast, no sound of Jo’s humming, and no heavy footsteps from his father.

Kai crept down the stairs, his heart hammering against his ribs. He found Joshua standing by the large window in the study, staring out at the yard where Kai and Jo had played just twenty-four hours earlier. The golden light was the same, but the man looking at it seemed to have aged a decade.

"Dad?" Kai whispered, his voice small and trembling.

Joshua didn't turn around. His shoulders remained stiff, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"I checked on your sister," Joshua said, his voice stripped of the warmth from the day before. "The marks on her arms... they're gone, but the chill in her blood remains. You didn't just light a candle, Malachai. You took a piece of her to do it."

"I didn't mean to!" Kai stepped forward, his eyes stinging with fresh tears. "I just wanted to feel what she felt. I wanted you to be proud of me."

Finally, Joshua turned. But he didn't reach out to ruffle Kai's hair. He didn't even step closer. He looked at Kai with a profound, quiet disappointment that felt worse than anger. It was the look of a man staring at a broken tool that could never be fixed.

"A Parker is a source of power, Malachai. A leader. A protector," Joshua said, his words cold and rhythmic. "But you... you are an empty well. You are a siphon. You can only exist by draining the life from those around you."

"I'm still your son," Kai choked out, reaching a hand toward his father.

Joshua flinched—a small, instinctive pull backward—as if Kai’s very touch was a threat. The movement was quick, but to Kai, it felt like a door slamming shut forever.

"You are a void," Joshua said, his voice dropping to a final, devastating whisper. "And from this day on, you are not to touch your siblings. You are not to touch me. You will live in this house, but you will not be of this house. Do you understand?"

Kai pulled his hand back, tucking it into his pocket as if it were a weapon he had to hide. He looked at his father’s stony face and realized that the promise he and Jo made under the willow tree—the one where they would do everything together—had been burned away by that blue flame.