Majyk Reborn (Skazka Chronicles Book 2)

by Valia Lind

  "Ah, much better."

  The sound of the running soldiers is getting louder by the second. Shaking off the hypnosis Baba Yaga's beauty seems to radiate, I glance up to find Brendan already looking down at me. He doesn't seem affected by her and that is a question I file away for another time.

  "We have to move," I announce, stepping out of Brendan's arms and turning to face the witch. "Do you have any idea how to get to the door?"

  "I have some."

  "Great. I'm so glad we got the snappy cryptic version," Brendan mumbles beside me, reaching into his mesto and pulling out a knife, to accompany the sword he’s already holding in his hand. He's tense and ready and mirroring everything I'm feeling.

  "Those soldiers are about to come down here. So I need a yes or a no." I snap.

  Her eyes flash at my tone, but she replies.

  "Yes. But we have to be out of the dungeons before it's a solid yes. Everything down here diminished my power."

  "Awesome."

  I don't have time to say anything else, as the creatures spill down the stairs and into the small space around us. Almost on automatic, I reach for my sword, as Brendan and Maxwell stand to attention. Maxwell gives me a tense nod, "I got her." And I know Jemma is in good hands. He won't let anything happen to her. I spare half a glance at Baba Yaga, but the creatures are already advancing.

  My sword shakes from the impact, as I raise it to meet my attacker's. Twisting my torso, I swing my body into the movement, gutting the closest creature. Before his body reaches the ground I push off him, flying into the others. My momentum drives them back enough for me to get a kick in, before I'm stabbing the next one in the heart.

  A tingle starts at the back of my head, but I shake it off, as I yank my sword out of the creature’s chest.

  "Use your majyk." This time the tingle comes with a voice and I'm momentarily stunned. A fist flies towards my chest and I'm not quite fast enough to dodge it. I drop to my knees, the wind kicked out of my lungs.

  "Use your majyk." The voice is sharper, more urgent, shouting inside of my head and making it difficult to concentrate. I manage to move just in time to avoid a kick in the face. Grabbing for the foot that almost connected with my flesh, I yank on it, dropping the creature on his back. Jumping up, I stab my sword down, piercing him clean through. The voice sounds again, making my vision blurry. I grab at my head, trying to push it away, but it keeps repeating. My eyes meet that of Baba Yaga through the foggy vision and I find her watching me with a small smile on her face. The creatures seem to be circling her as if she's not even there.

  "Cal, get up!" I hear Brendan's voice reaching out to me, but the chanting in my head is too loud. Turning my head in his direction, I see he's pinned between three creatures. Maxwell is beside him, swinging his sword, as Jemma huddles against the wall. The image of defeat flashes in front of my eyes.

  "Use your majyk."

  The voice shouts one last time and I scream. The rage and secrets pour out of me in that one sound. My hands slam to the floor, going straight though and into the soil beneath the foundation. Colors burst out of me, purples and greens and reds, circling in the space around each of those present. I give it all. My fears and my anger burst out of me and just like that, the only sound is the hum of majyk in my veins.

  The anger burns inside of me, as I clutch the ground below me, desperately trying to keep it in. I cannot lose it in front of them. I can't. The creatures are gone, just like before, evaporated by the majyk I shouldn't possess.

  The agitation must be evident in my face, but Brendan has never been afraid of me. He takes a step toward me, his hands out in front of him as if he's approaching a cornered animal. And isn't that what I've become? Caged by my own secrets, caged by the power running through me.

  "Cal, it's okay. We're safe. We're okay."

  I growl at him, my fingers still deeply buried in the dirt. Brendan pauses, just for a second glancing down to the ground, before stepping even closer. That's when I realize the dirt around me has lost some of its color. There's a circle around me, of blackened earth, as I hold onto it with my majyk. Before I can give in to the horror of what I'm doing, Brendan is there, tugging my hands out of the dirt.

  The moment his skin touches mine, I find my calm. He always has that effect on me and that's just as frustrating as the lack of control.

  "Come on, zaichik. It's time to go."

  He lifts me into his arms, as if I weigh nothing, tucking me firmly against his chest. I want to protest, but just like the last time this happened, I'm more drained than I've ever been. Maxwell has been trying to find the cause, but there isn't a way for him to do so, until I come clean with him. The weight of my secret crushes me from within, and I grip Brendan that much tighter. Shutting my eyes, I pray the tears will stay in place, but I'm afraid that's another battle I'm losing.

  "You have your way cleared. Get us out of here."

  My eyes stay closed as we begin moving. I have no strength left in me. All I feel is the rush of air against my warm skin, and the solidness of Brendan's chest beneath my cheek. I think there's some shouting, but I'm losing the battle to stay awake. In the next moment, I feel majyk rush over my skin and the feel of fresh air around me, before the darkness takes over.

  11

  When I open my eyes, I'm still securely tucked into Brendan's chest. We're moving through the woods, the shadows dancing between the darkness surrounding the trees. I shift and his grip tightens.

  "Stay."

  One word and I'm helpless to do anything else.

  "What happened?" I mumble, trying to keep my voice from rising. The panic I felt before I passed out hasn't diminished. It's been simmering just under the surface as I lay unconscious. But putting on a brave front is what I've come to do almost as second nature.

  "Baba Yaga got us through the door, pointed us in the right direction and then disappeared. I think she'll be back though. She didn't seem finished with you."

  I don't comment on his obvious question because I don't have anything to say.

  "Is Jemma okay?"

  "Yes. They're ahead of us."

  The tightness in my chest loosens just a little and I go to move again, but he won't let go.

  "Brendan, put me down."

  "Do you remember the story of the wood sprite?" Brendan says, completely ignoring me. "Fea derevniy." He adds after a small pause. He's been doing that more often. Using the proper names for the creatures of our land. I search through my memories but come up empty. Even if I did, I still wouldn't said no. I want to hear him tell it. Even as I berate myself for allowing this closeness.

  "Brendan." At first, I think he just won't answer at all. But after a tense moment of silence, he looks me right in the eyes, his own full of emotion I don't want to name.

  "If I can't carry your burden, let me carry you. Even for a little while."

  His voice catches, and he clears his throat, before looking away. I shut my eyes against the pain I hear, because this answers all the questions on exactly how much I’m hurting him. I don't want the secrets to become a barrier, but in a way, they already have. If he wants to give me this, then I am selfish enough to take it.

  "No, I don't remember the story."

  His arms grip me just a tad tighter, before his voice washes over me once again.

  "Well, as it goes, there lived a fair maiden in a village by the woods. She was a daughter of the local minister and one day, without asking permission of her mother and father, the fair maiden left the safety of the village and went into the woods. Now, the woods were like any other woods, but the stories have been told of the trees speaking when spoken to and the ground shaken when walked upon."

  I think of our own ground, as Brendan easily maneuvers the terrain, keeping me close to his chest. Shifting my head, I let it rest against his shoulder, gazing up at him. His profile is strong, comforting, and I allow myself to get lost in his words.

  "So the fair maiden went and the fair maiden got lost. As one
does. Three years go by and no one has seen or heard from her in all that time.

  Now the time of the holy days comes around and a bold hunter goes into the woods with his dog, as he does on every holy day. On this particular day, the hunter comes across a wooden stump, and on that stump stands a peasant, cleaning his shoe against the bark and talking to the moon. The peasant doesn't look like he should be that old, but his hair is grey and his voice is raspy.

  The peasant looks up, reading the hunter's thoughts and answers the unasked question, "I am grey for I am the Devil's grandfather."

  The hunter quickly realizes that he has met the wood sprite and takes out his gun and shoots him right in the stomach. The Wood Sprite barely keeps his balance, and seems to be going down, when in the next second, he jumps and takes off into the woods. The hunter doesn't hesitate, sending his dog after the creature, and follows close behind.

  They run and run, up and down the mountains, in and out of valleys, until finally, the hunter comes to a cave opening and behind the cave is a valley and in the valley stands a little hut. The hunter burst into the hut, and what does he find? The Wood Sprite, bleeding on the floor, and the missing fair maiden weeping in the corner.

  "Who will feed me now?" she wails.

  The hunter, shocked at her appearance, quickly sheds his coat, draping it over her naked shoulders.

  "Tell me, maiden. Where do you come from?"

  "I do not know, kind sir," the fair maiden answers. "For I have never seen the free world and I have never known my father and mother."

  The Wood Sprite dies and the hunter takes the fair maiden with him, going village to village, inquiring if anyone had missed the fair maiden. When he finally reaches her village, her father and mother are there, weeping with joy. For the Wood Sprite has stolen the fair maiden, and has taken her memories and herself, and kept her for himself for three whole years.

  Now the fair maiden didn't know her mother and father, but slowly, with patience and love, she came back to herself. Little by little. And the mother and father gave the fair maiden to the huntsman for a wife and rewarded him for bringing their daughter back.

  When the night season has ended, the mother and father went into the woods to search for the hut, but they couldn't find it. The majyk of the forest took it all back."

  His voice soothes me like nothing else can, and I don't even notice that we've stopped. Brendan is still holding me close, but I am now cradled in his lap, as he settles on the ground, his back to the tree trunk. Lifting my head, I see that he's already looking down at me.

  "Your stories are getting a little nicer," I whisper, afraid that if I speak too loudly, I'll break the serenity of the moment.

  "You do realize the Wood Sprite kidnaped a girl, right?"

  "And took her memories," I say, without sugar coating it. "But she got them back. Little by little, she got herself back." I'm not stupid not to notice the similarities between the stories. While I know who I am now, the memories that I'm still missing are important parts of that puzzle. I wonder if I had all the pieces, would I be able to control my majyk better? Would I be able to hold my own and not be drained by the majyk inside me?

  I always seem to be asking questions and never getting any answers.

  "She didn't do it on her own," Brendan's soft words break through my thoughts. I glance up at him, finding his face in profile, as he stares somewhere far in the distance. He’s so beautiful, inside and out, that I want everything to be different.

  I know we made a decision a long time ago to put our duty to the land above all else. When I became betrothed to William, I did just that. But I guess the heart doesn't follow the conventional rules of tradition. The heart has a mind of its own. Even a heart that no longer beats in my chest.

  It's a wonder Brendan hasn't realized just how empty I am inside. Not hollow, because Znanie has made itself a comfortable place in my chest. But empty of the one thing that could make me more real than ever. I want to tell Brendan just how much he means to me. That he's my hunter and I'm his fair maiden and at the end of our quest, we too will have our happy ending.

  But I don't. Because just like before, it will make things complicated. Allowing myself the weakness of resting in his arms for just another minute is all I can do. Then, I'm pushing away and he doesn't stop me. We've danced this dance before. Our steps are perfectly in sync, executed to perfection. As I get up and walk to where Maxwell and Jemma are setting up camp, I only wish that I liked this dance. Instead of hating it with every beat.

  "Cali!" Jemma launches herself into my arms, squeezing the life out of me. I hug her back just as fiercely, the realness of her makes me breathe easier for the first time in weeks. "You're okay."

  "Are you okay?" I ask, pulling back to stare at her. She's lost some weight and her skin and hair has lost some of its shine. But the girl who took me in and became my friend is still there.

  "I am. I feel exhausted, but I'm alive. Thanks to you all."

  "I'm so so sorry, Jemma. So sorry," I say, tears falling down my cheeks before I can stop them. Her own eyes well up and just like that, we're holding each other again.

  "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

  "You're so sure of that?" I ask between hiccups.

  "I am. You're a pawn, just like I am." She pauses for a second, before lowering her voice even farther. "I know your secret."

  My body jerks at her words, as my eyes fly up to where the guys are talking. They're far enough that it's possible they haven't heard, but nothing is definite with their supernatural hearing. Just like any other time, my first response is to deflect it.

  "We should get some food into you. And water. You need to hydrate."

  "Calista. Don't do this. Not to me." Her voice is strong despite of her fragile appearance, but I can't seem to meet her eye. She already knows too much. But if she truly does know my secret, nothing I say will protect her.

  "I don't know what you're talking about." But I drop my voice even lower, as the boys move a bit farther away. I'm sure they're giving us the privacy, but I'm not taking that chance since I’m not ready for them to know everything just yet.

  "Baba Yaga likes the sound of her own voice, Cali. She said that only the prophesied reincarnation can stand against Glava's magic and you did. You are that sorcerer. However that works." Her reaction is basically the same as mine, and I can't blame her. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around how this is supposed to work, since I don't share anything with him but my powers.

  "I...I don't understand what it all means, Jemma. And," I pause, glancing over to where the boys are talking.

  "You haven't told them."

  Shaking my head, I turn back to her. "I don't know what it means. What any of this means for the kind of person I'm supposed to be. Or am. Or whatever."

  "But you know what you have to do."

  It's not a question and I don't bother addressing it. It's too risky at this point to even share the information with Jemma. She knows me for the girl I was without the powers and accepts me as the girl with them. Even though she may think Baba Yaga told her everything, I doubt she would see me in the same light if that was really true.

  "You know you'll have to tell them," Jemma continues, when I don't say anything. My eyes shift to where Brendan is standing and it hurts me to even think of what it'll mean telling him. Whatever dance we've been doing, it doesn't diminish how I feel about him. I think...I think I may have fallen for him all over again. Before my memories and after they came back, he's still the most important person to me and I don't know what I'll do when I lose that.

  "Not yet," I say, focusing back on my friend. "Please. I need time. We have to get back to the Royal Court and figure out our next step. And I can't...I can't bare it if they turn away."

  "Cali," my friend turns fully to face me, taking my hands into her own. "I may not have known you my whole life, but I know that you're good. And I may not have been around you three for any long period of time, but I
can see that those guys will follow you anywhere. They care about you."

  I keep my eyes on her hands, holding onto mine with all the love and care that she has within her. It's as if she's willing me to accept myself, like she's accepted me. The tears sting my eyes, as I try to keep the emotions at bay.

  "You're not scared of me?"

  “I’ll never be scared of you.”

  “Why?” I’m almost afraid to ask, but I need her answer like I need air. She squeezes my hands gently, before replying.

  “Because before I knew you were magic, I knew you for the person you were without it. The girl who loves to stay in and watch shows with hot brothers and unsolved mysteries. Who hates parties but will go with her best friend anyway, because she promised. Who’ll run across town to get her friends favorite drink when she’s sick. That’s my friend and that’s who you are.”

  “Jemma—“

  "I trust you. They do too."

  The conviction in her voice shatters me to pieces. Pulling her toward me, I wrap her in a hug and hold on. Jemma may be human, but she is my sister through and through. I may not trust myself, and I may not know what tomorrow will bring. But whatever comes next, I have that to hold on to.

  12

  As we settle for the night, Maxwell keeps a close watch on Jemma, and I'm thankful. There's something in his eyes that I haven't seen before, not toward any of the girls we grew up with. He knows the rules at court, the forbidden way human and Skazka relationships are viewed. But I won't caution him against it. It would be selfish to do so, since I've broken so many rules of my own.

  I'm exhausted, but I'm way too restless to sleep, so I volunteer for first watch. The boys don't question me, even though I can feel Brendan's eyes on me and his need to say all the things he's been keeping inside. There's too much of this back and forth, too many secrets creeping in between us, for our friendship to survive. I think we're both keeping quiet, just for a chance to hold on to what we have a little longer. I wish I was more stable in my emotions, I wish I could keep him at a distance a bit better. Maybe then, we wouldn’t hurt as much as we do.