Majyk Reborn (Skazka Chronicles Book 2)

by Valia Lind

  "Are we getting attacked?" Maxwell shouts. Good question. I push off the table, to the window but I find nothing but the blur of trees outside.

  "No," I reply, realization coming to me in a flash. I turn to the boys, both watching me expectedly, before I shout, "Stop!"

  The house jerks to a stop immediately, sending all three of us into the walls and furniture. As we right ourselves, Maxwell gives me an annoyed look.

  "Maybe a little warning next time?"

  I glare at him, "Wasn't sure it would work, okay?" Straightening my clothes, I study the room, noticing how all the items right themselves as well. Everything moves back to their designated places. I glance at the boys and they're watching the items around them in amazement.

  "This makes sense," Brendan states, shrugging. He seems unaffected by the closeness but my body won't stop buzzing with energy. So many things have been left unsaid, so many emotions are running high. I need to catch my breath before I pass out from the dizziness.

  "What happened?" Maxwell asks, pulling his attention away from the self-rearranging furniture.

  "I don't know. This house is enchanted to protect us. Maybe it sensed danger. Or thought we were all in here and it was time to get moving?"

  I'm guessing, just as much as they are.

  "Are you sure? How would it know..."

  "I. Don't. Know." I snap, my emotions running hot, "It's not as if I have an instructions manual I’m reading from. I’m trying to figure this out, same as you."

  Maxwell steps back, raising his hands up in surrender, but he doesn't react to my tone otherwise. I glance at Brendan but he's no longer looking at me. We're back to them tiptoeing around me and I don't know what to do with that anymore. The conflicting emotions within me are on repeat. It's the same thing, every day, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to break the cycle.

  I need to start thinking with my brain, not my ‘no longer beating in my chest’ heart. Taking a deep breath, I look around the room, trying to decide on the next plan of action. When my eyes land on the table that just majykally righted itself, along with the items on it, I get an idea.

  "We need to figure out what's going on and how this house is involved," I start out by stating the obvious, bring the attention of both of the guys back to me. "Maxwell, there are plenty of books here. Let's see if any of them can yield any knowledge to our current predicament. Brendan," I pause a second, before turning my attention to him. "We should scout our current location and put together a battle plan."

  "Great idea! I'm all over it!" Maxwell happily agrees, his eyes are already on the many different volumes throughout the room. Brendan nods as I turn on my heels, and follows me out of the house.

  Scanning my surroundings quickly, I drop to the ground from the high perch, my sword already in my hands. Brendan lands softly beside me, our backs to each other as we study the immediate area. We're still in the forest, but we are much farther along than we were before the house started moving. I can tell because the trees and bushes respond to our majyk the moment our feet touch ground.

  The land is much more depleted of the ancient majyk, the colors of the branches and leaves are duller than the vibrant color thriving throughout the rest of Skazka. There is also a heaviness that hangs in the air around us.

  "How far into the Shadowlands are we?" Brendan asks, but I don't think he expects an answer. I glance at him, and he's already looking at me, waiting for his cue. As one, the silent understanding passes between us and we move to the opposite sides of the hut, flanking it, as we move farther out.

  The ground is trampled beneath my feet, but I still tread carefully, as if afraid to impart more damage. The leaves of the closest tree reaches out to me and my fingers caressed it briefly. Even at that small contact, the plant shuddered with comfort and majyk. Having most of my memories back still doesn't help when I'm missing the little pieces. Why does one plant seem satisfied by my touch, while another is fearful? What causes the different sides of my majyk to flare up?

  There are always more questions. Always more confusion and uncertainty. The only things I know are that when I fight, I love the feel of my blade slicing the enemy and when I stop to feel, my whole body yearns to be near Brendan. How will I ever be able to lead if I can't figure myself out? How will I ever know which sides of me are true, if I don't understand them?

  "Clear." Brendan whispers, materializing beside me. I nod, not trusting my voice, as we move farther away from the hut and into the woods. The air around is quiet and still, filled with tension that doesn't just come from whatever is between Brendan and I. There are not birds here, no insects. It's just the sound of our footsteps and the rustle of the leaves.

  "We have to be close to their main post," I finally say, after about twenty minutes of quiet explorations. Brendan and I are standing in the midst of the trees, each of us not looking at the other.

  "Do you think...?" He begins and I know where he's going with this.

  "I do," I reply, "I think the hut brought us out of the putanitsa spell, breaking it somehow."

  He takes that at face value, considering the whole hut situation. We stand in silence another moment, before he says,

  "I've never been this deeps inside the Shadowlands before. Everything is..."

  "Empty," I say, and that earns me a look.

  "Void of all life, even though the plants are not quite dead." He agrees.

  "It's like the In Between," I realize, glancing around us again, "They're all stuck in a limbo between life and death, with death knocking at the door."

  It's Brendan's turn to nod. This has become our means of conversation. We're too afraid of what words would do to us, so we rely on the simple acknowledgment of the other. It’s a pattern we’ve fallen into. Every time he confronts me, I shut down, and we’re back in our corners, barely speaking to each other. I don't know how long we'll be able to be in our own sort of a limbo, but I'm afraid I don't have the strength to find out.

  "You did good back there," Brendan speaks up, after a tense moment of silence. "When you take charge, it's like we have you back. Completely." He adds that last part softly, as if he doesn't want me to hear it, but I do. And I don't disagree with him.

  "I'm sorry," my mouth speaks before I realize where this is going. He spins on his heels, staring right at me, maybe even inside of me, with an intensity that sets my skin on fire. But he doesn't move toward me, he waits for me to finish whatever I started.

  "I'm sorry for keeping things from you. I know I'm a hypocrite for pulling the same thing I held against you and Maxwell in the beginning. There are memories I can't share with you, knowledge that I'm not ready for you to have, because I don't know what that means for me. I don't want to change your opinion of me." My breath catches at the last words, the emotions I've been trying to hold back coming up full swing. Brendan doesn't hesitate this time. He takes a step and suddenly, he's in front of me. We're only a few inches apart, and I can feel his heat radiating into mine.

  "No matter who you are, my opinion of you will never change. You will never be anyone to me but the strong, fierce, beautiful Calista that fights for the people she cares about. You have never needed me to be your hero, because you've always been strong enough to be your own. That's what I wish you'd remember about yourself."

  There are tears in my eyes now, because I'm helpless to do anything but feel. His words are spoken with so much conviction, whatever breath I had left in my lungs is burning itself through my system.

  "You have a blind faith in me that I do not deserve." I manage, chocking on the words.

  "It's not blind faith," Brendan argues, taking a tiny step toward me. "I've known you my whole life. I've seen your good and your bad. I know the kind of choices you make better than anyone else."

  "But what if the choices were made for me?" I exclaim, spinning away from him and the intensity radiating off his very words. "What if I'm someone who is unredeemable?"

  "Unredeemable?" There's confusion in that one
word, because he only knows the good in me. He didn't see me murder that man just because I wanted his majyk. He doesn't know the thoughts running through my mind and my complete conviction in destroying the very kingdom I'm sworn to protect. How do I explain all that to him without giving up all my secrets?

  "Cal," Brendan is right behind me, my name on his lips ruffling my hair at the back of my neck. "Whatever you think you've done, or going to do based on some notion of who you think you are, I won't let you descend into the unredeemable category."

  My tears become sobs, as my body shakes with his words. He breaks the unspoken rule, placing a hand on my shoulder and just like that, I am lost. I twist around, falling right into his chest and his arms are around me before I can take my next breath. My hands cling to me as if my life depends on it, as I try to shut out the rest of the world and focus on the one I'm holding on to. My own world, right here in my arms.

  We stay like that for minutes and hours, and I allow myself this one small gift, because I know whatever happens after this, I may never find myself in his arms again.

  8

  When I'm finally strong enough to step out of his arms, he doesn't try to stop me. He also doesn't say anything as I turn and make my way back toward the hut. He doesn't push for answers, even though I know he wonders exactly what's going on in my head. I've fed him half-truths and unfinished sentences, hoping to keep him near me for as long as possible. I'm terrified of the day all of my carefully laid plans come crumbling down around me.

  "There you are," Maxwell calls out, as soon as we step into the clearing with the hut. He's sitting on the ledge at the open door, his feet dangling, holding a large book in his arms.

  "We've scouted a good portion of the forest, and found no one. The hut got us away from our trackers and broke through the spell, it seems. We’re safe, at least for now." Brendan tells Maxwell, coming over to look up at him.

  "I found some interesting information. This is a history of sorts, recorded by Baba Yaga." Maxwell jumps down to ground level, and the door shuts promptly behind him. All three of us look up at the house, wondering if it's going to take off, but it stays. It moves one chicken leg to the right, before exchanging it for the left, as if it's stretching. Then, after a few rotations, it settles to the ground, folding the legs under it, much like a bird would.

  "Well, okay then," Maxwell says after a long pause, as we stare at the house. "This is the weirdest thing I've ever seen."

  A chuckle burst out of me at that and both of the boys turn to look at me in surprise. I can't help the laughter as I stare at their expressions and soon, Maxwell is grinning too. Even Brendan manages a small smile.

  "Show us what you got," I say, pulling my gaze away from that small curve of Brendan's lips. Maxwell throws me a knowing smirk and I roll my eyes. It's so difficult being surrounded by people who seem to know me better than I know myself. Maxwell chuckles, but he doesn't comment.

  "When I said history book earlier, I should've just said a journal. Baba Yaga has been keeping tabs on the comings and goings of the Glava and they've been cooking stuff up for a while. The orb isn't just a passageway between our realms, it's a weapon."

  Lightning fast, every cell in my body concentrates on Maxwell's words. A weapon. Isn't that what Cornelius called me before I even had the orb in my possession?

  "Explain."

  "The relic does allow the travelers to come in at any point, undetected. We knew that was a huge reason of why it was so wanted."

  "Sneaking in, into any realm, it's exactly the tactical advantage they want," Brendan comments, agreeing.

  "But it's so much more. It holds ancient majyks, so it can be used as a weapon to destroy those same realms."

  I let that sink in for a second, pondering on the properties of the majykal artifact that sits where my heart used to. I rub at it absentmindedly, but Brendan doesn't miss the move. He reaches over, placing his hand over my own. Looking up at him, I soak in the contact and the steadiness in his gaze.

  "But they don't want to destroy all of Skazka, do they?" I ask, thanking Brendan with my eyes, before taking a step out of his reach. Maxwell doesn't miss a thing either, but he's not about to comment.

  "If they want power, maybe?"

  My mind goes back to what knowledge I have, going over every aspect with a logical outlook. The boys grow quiet, allowing me the time to think it over. And I realize I've been missing the obvious. There was a reason for the timing, for my leaving, for Cornelius coming to me. If the Glava could use the orb for their own, so could the crown.

  "They don't have to destroy Skazka. They just have to hold the power to do so. Can you imagine one of them showing up in the queens chambers unannounced and untraced, holding the power to destroy not only the royal line, but the land? There is no question who the power struggle would fall to." I finally say. The guys let that sink in, before Brendan speaks up.

  "But if the orb was such a powerful weapon, why hasn't it been used before? None of the history books speak of it of having any kind of battle majyk. As far as we know, it's never been used in war."

  "The book says that it can only be wielded by certain volshebnikom, it's not something anyone can handle. The last volshebnik to have the power to use it was..."

  I don’t need Maxwell to finish that sentence.

  "Koschei Bessmertny," I say softly.

  Both of them spin to face me, before Maxwell whispers, "Yes."

  I turn away, refusing to meet the perplexed expressions they're both wearing. My mind races with ways I can explain this without giving myself away. Even after all this, I'm not ready to tell them who I am. But I can't pretend that they're not going to put two and two together. If they haven't already. Maybe the only reason they haven't is because this stupid prophecy has been kept in such secret.

  "Cal, how could you know that?" It's Brendan who asks the question, his voice low but steady. He's always been better at concealing his emotions when push came to shove. He just doesn't like doing it with me, and that's been our downfall. I don't want to pretend with him either, and yet that's all I do lately.

  "Something Cornelius said," I reply, the lie steady on my lips. "He's the one to give me the idea of keeping the orb in…the place beside my heart. It would make sense."

  "What did he say exactly? It’s true, Koschei is the only one who’s ever done the ritual, but he took out his heart. For you to be able to handle the majyk of it, you’d have to have some relation to him, right? If that's true, does that mean you're a descendant of Koschei's blood? You can't be, because you come from the Warrior's lineage. Your mother and father are pure in their family line. Would it even be possible, if he's supposed to be dead for hundreds of years?" The questions pour out of Maxwell, as he begins to pace, but I only hear him halfheartedly. My eyes are fixed on Brendan, who hasn't stopped watching me in that steady way of his. I see the questions there, I see a million ways this could go, but I also see his faith in my person. Just like that, he centers me and I find my footing once again.

  "You don't have to possess his lineage to be able to perform the spell," I reply truthfully, "The spell requires an incredible amount of power and knowledge, but it's not attached to one family, like our battle majyk is."

  "That has to be it!" Maxwell exclaims, waving his hand in my direction. "But how does that play into all of this. They don't know you've performed the spell. They can't know where the orb is."

  "No," Brendan speaks up, "But they must have a way to Koschei's blood. Or someone like him, in order to use the orb."

  "That's why all of this is happening now," Maxwell says, halting his pacing and turning to face us. "They've been waiting for whomever it is to come to powers. Now, if they possess the orb, they'll be able to wield it."

  My hollow chest hurts at the truth in those words. What Maxwell doesn't' know, is that he hit the nail on the head. I have come to my powers and I can wield the orb. Cornelius thinks that I'll do it for him to stand against the Royal Ones. The crown thi
nks I'm protecting the orb for them. But as I look at Brendan, with his inquisitive gaze and kind smile, and Maxwell, with his eyes shining with excitement at the knowledge he gleamed, I realize I'm doing it for them. After I'm done doing it for myself.

  "Anything else helpful in that book?" I make myself ask.

  "Oh yeah!" Maxwell's excitement level goes up another one hundred percent. "I know where we are in the Shadowlands and there is a way to get into Galva’s stronghold from basically right here."

  The hut had almost brought us to one of Baba Yaga's main areas of inhabitance. According to the journal, she has a few key places within the forest for maximum majyk conduct. It's going to be difficult to get the book away from Maxwell when the time comes. He’s soaking up the knowledge as if his life depends on it. I guess, in a way, it does. He keeps flipping the pages, pouring over all the information.

  If we allowed the hut to carry us for another few minutes, we would've been at the place it was aiming at. After Maxwell explains to us that there is an entrance from the forest to the grand hall in the stronghold, we climb back into the hut and I direct it to take us to the predestined location. Baba Yaga must've known I was going to heed her words and had it all planned out.

  "I still think this may be a trap," Brendan points out for the fourth time in the last hour.

  "Your words have been taken into consideration," I reply, as I take out my sword from my mesto, "But it doesn't change the fact that we're doing this anyway." I've decided that I'm going, no matter what. And while I know they will follow me into battle if I order it, I don't know if I can bring myself to do so.

  "How does this work?" I ask, turning to Maxwell for further instructions. Just as predicted, Maxwell is holding onto that book for dear life. He flips a few pages, turning it to face Brendan and me. There's a sketch of a large tree on the right side of a small meadow. A few symbols are sketched on the ground, creating an arrow pointing to the tree.

  "This is the entrance. I'm pretty sure this page was prepared specifically for us."