Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual

by Forrest, Bella

  “Your mind isn’t in the right place for this,” Nomura said softly.

  “It is. It has to be,” I replied. “Let me try again.”

  He sighed. “Try Fire instead. We’ll work back up to Air. For the sake of the coven, I’d advise that we avoid Earth for the time being, until you’re more settled in your thoughts.”

  “Fine… Fire it is,” I muttered, my cheeks burning. I hated letting myself down like this. As an Empath, my role was to sense emotions. How could I do that, when I couldn’t even control my own?

  Taking up a power stance, my right foot forward, I lifted my hands and aimed at the wooden post. Without warning, my Esprit surged with red light, an enormous, crackling fireball hurtling out of my palms. It took out the post completely, reducing it to a smoldering matchstick, before it kept on going, smacking into the wall in an explosion of sparks. I stared at it in disbelief. What the heck is going on? Fire was usually the easy one, but my head and my Esprit were having none of it.

  “It’s your anger, Harley,” Nomura said. “It’s allowing the Darker, destructive side of your abilities to take control. Fire in balance, or Fire in Light tends to be calmer—you can tell from the texture of the fireballs you create. When they crackle like that and come out of you much larger and much more forceful, that’s because Darkness is guiding them.”

  I shook my head. “It can’t be taking over. I still have the Suppressor holding everything in balance.”

  He smiled. “The Suppressor does exactly that—it suppresses your abilities. It can’t control which affinity channels your energies. By the looks of your Esprit, certain changes are already starting to occur inside you. The spell that fixed it wasn’t done in balance or in Light. If it had been, the stones wouldn’t look that way.”

  I fought against bitter tears. “This is ridiculous. It’s like I don’t even have control of my body anymore. These affinities and abilities, or whatever you want to call them, are doing whatever the hell they want. I’m sick of it. Don’t I get a say?”

  “You have the strength to control these things. It’s all about focus and concentration. Everything is.” He walked over to me. “Why don’t we call it a day on the training and do something far more useful? We’ve both lost someone, and we’re enduring grief in our own way. Meditation is often the best method to bring a warring mind back toward peace. I can teach you how, if you want?”

  I glanced at him. “Can you show me how to sink into a state of Euphoria?” It’d been on my mind for a while now, ever since hearing about it. If I was going to break the Suppressor by myself, without causing a load of damage to the people and things around me, I figured that putting myself into that state might be the best way. Krieger had wanted me to learn for a reason. If I could apply it to my own, self-induced Suppressor break, maybe I could reduce the consequences, too.

  He frowned. “I don’t think that’s appropriate for today, but if you’d like to learn, I can show you another time. It can be a helpful way to restore control over certain abilities, though it’s not often done anymore. In your case, you may find it gives you greater clarity.”

  “Really?”

  “Like I said, given your multitude of abilities, it may be a good option for you. Although I would advise that you don’t come to rely on it, as it isn’t always successful, and it’s very time-consuming.”

  I smiled. “I’d still like to learn.”

  “Then we’ll arrange it. But, for today, let us simply meditate awhile. It will calm you, without the need for Euphoria.” He moved across the room toward the exit. “Follow me. All of my equipment is in my office.”

  “Equipment? What do you need equipment for? Isn’t it all ohms and kumbayas?”

  He laughed. “You’d be surprised at the objects necessary for meditation. Candles and incense, for starters. I call it equipment to make it sound more impressive.”

  I hurried after him, the two of us walking a short distance down the hallway. He opened a door to the right-hand side and let me go ahead of him. My mouth fell open at the sight beyond. It looked more like the interior of an ancient Samurai temple than an office. A low table sat in the center, with cushions around it, while golden statues of Buddha stood against the crisp white and black walls. Red and gold drapes hung down at even intervals. The ceiling had also been draped, softening the entire look of the place. Above the fireplace, two katanas in ebony sheathes were crossed in an “X.”

  “This place is so cool,” I murmured.

  “Thank you. I like to think of it as my sanctuary, when I need to detach my thoughts from the goings-on of the coven.”

  “I need to get me one of these.”

  He chuckled. “Take a seat, and we’ll begin. Please, remove your shoes.”

  Taking off my boots, I picked my way across to one of the silky cushions and sat down, wiggling my socked feet as I watched Nomura. He moved over to a small table in the corner and prepared a ceramic pot of herbal tea. I could smell the spicy, bitter aroma from where I was sitting, the scent weirdly tantalizing. As he waited for the leaves to steep, he took a lighter and did a circle of the room, igniting the candles and stalks of incense that he had all over the place. Soon enough, the office glowed with warm, soothing light and smelled wonderfully smoky and sweet. Already, just being here, I felt calmer. Yeah, I really have to get me one of these, and maybe one of those for Katherine. I eyed the katanas.

  A few minutes later, he brought over the pot of tea and two cups and set one in front of me. He did the pouring, a greenish liquid tumbling out. Heady steam rose from the cup.

  “Drink,” he urged, waiting for me to take a sip before he took a sip of his own.

  “I’m not going to start tripping am I—seeing pink elephants on parade?”

  He laughed. “No, this is just herbal tea, I assure you.”

  It tasted bitter on my tongue, my taste buds prickling at the new flavor. It was close to matcha but had a strong note of something earthy—like mushrooms, or sage. Still, it was hot and soothing, relaxing my tightly-wound muscles. I took another sip and set it down, Nomura instantly refilling it.

  “I’ve just realized, I don’t know much about you,” I said. “Other than the fact that you are a preceptor, I don’t know anything.” After losing Jacintha, it somehow felt important to know more about people. I regretted not appreciating her more, seeing her as nothing but a teacher.

  He smiled. “This isn’t technically how you meditate. It’s usually done without talking.”

  “Meditation can wait. I’d like to know more about you.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “How you came to be who you are, maybe? What keeps you going? What are your likes, your dislikes?”

  He dipped his head. “Very well. At least close your eyes, so we can pretend we’re meditating.”

  “Sounds fair.” I closed my eyes and brought my cup to my lips.

  “I always wanted to make myself a better person,” he began. “As a teenager, I sensed I had potential, but my abilities let me down. Mediocrity was something of a curse back then. Even now, it carries a stigma, as you well know. However, I sought to become more than that label. I traveled the world and learned all I could, reading every book I came across. I learned from spiritual souls, from Native American shamans to Japanese monks, and Russian Kolduny. I spent some time with the Voodoo magicals that I told you about, and I’ve also studied with the Euphorics of Tromsø—the last people to practice the art in perpetuity. I have been all over, trying to bring myself out of Mediocrity, though it took me two decades to achieve.”

  “Sounds like a lot of hard work.”

  He chuckled. “It was, but it was worth every hour of study. As for what keeps me going—that would be my son, Shinsuke. He is also a Mediocre by label, but he’s following in my footsteps. As we speak, he is in the Amazon, studying with the magical tribes there. I’ve not heard from him in several weeks, but I know he’s succeeding in his task. He and I share talismans, which hold a pie
ce of a loved one’s soul. If anything should happen to him, the talisman would let me know. I’m very proud of him, for everything he’s doing, and everything he has already achieved. One day, he will be more powerful than me, and I welcome it.”

  “No Mrs. Nomura?” I peeked under my lids as silence followed, wondering if he’d upped and left without me realizing. His face was clouded with sadness. “Sorry, that was rude. I’ve got a motormouth—it says stuff before my brain has the chance to stop it.”

  A hint of amusement broke through the clouds, before they drew together again, across his features. “It’s a fair question. Unfortunately, my wife died several years ago. She was a gifted woman with a love for archaeology—that was her job, and she was forever exploring, aiding the Global Magical Department of Artifacts in their search for powerful objects. She went missing on a dig in Antarctica, looking for the remains of a cache that was buried by an ancient magical, and they recovered her body a month later, beneath the snow. An avalanche must have caught her off guard, and she didn’t make it out.”

  “I’m so sorry.” See, this is why you don’t ask personal questions! I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

  “It was a troubling time. I have never known grief like that,” he replied evenly. “It was around that time that I discovered meditation and spent a year with the Euphorics. My son came with me. That may have been the moment he decided to follow my path and pour his pain into something constructive. I don’t need to tell you how hard it is to live without a parent.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, it’s a bitch all right.”

  “Have you ever considered literature? You have such a charming way with words,” he teased.

  “People keep telling me that,” I replied, glad of the break in tension. I couldn’t handle any more sadness, though the pain rolling off him was tangible, and not just because of my Empath abilities. He wore every memory of it on his open face, his closed eyes flickering.

  “Even now, it seems strange that she won’t walk through the door. That impossible absence is the hardest thing to get used to,” he said. “I feel it for Jacintha now. She and I used to spend afternoons drinking tea and discussing global matters. It seems so absurd that she won’t knock on that door and join me in my meditation ever again.”

  I sipped my tea. “Will you tell me about her?” I didn’t know enough about her and it made me feel an overwhelming sense of guilt and grief. It was a bit late in the day, but I wanted to know more.

  “I would be delighted to,” he replied. “Do you know, in aboriginal culture, it’s deemed inappropriate to mention the name of the deceased after they have passed?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “They believe it keeps the soul locked to the world of the living, preventing them from returning to the spirit world.” He took a shallow breath. “Anyway, we may speak her name, so I will. Jacintha Parks was a bright woman with a wicked sense of humor. I remember on one occasion, she and I sat in here until the early hours, drinking sake and talking of our youth. I thought my ribs might break, I was laughing so hard. She was telling me a story about how she accidentally turned an ex-boyfriend into a lizard and had to hide him until she could figure out the reverse spell. Her father had come into her room, and she’d stuffed the lizard down her shirt. Every time he’d popped out, she’d had to shove him back down, while attempting to have a sensible conversation about college with her father. The way she acted it out… you likely had to be there, but I have never laughed so much in my entire life.”

  I chuckled at the image.

  “She was kind, too—always helpful to the newcomers, though especially Astrid. Jacintha was the one to take her under her wing when she arrived, shy as a newborn foal. And, my word, Jacintha was an incredible cook. One time, she made this decadent stew for Astrid, who was sick with the flu. I tried to steal a bite—I couldn’t help myself—and she slapped my hand away before I could even put the spoon in my mouth. The entire Staff Lounge erupted in laughter, naturally, with me standing there in front of the pot, spoonless and shocked.”

  “She sounds like quite the woman,” I said, smiling. Nomura always seemed so poised and put-together; I couldn’t imagine him standing there in such a funny manner, with an angry Jacintha swiping at him.

  He nodded. “She was. Even when that monster killed her, I imagine she put up a fight.”

  “You think so?”

  Nomura nodded. “Jacintha was always a fighter.” I could hear the pain in his voice, making me realize just how human the preceptors were, beyond their formal, educational façades. It was like seeing a high school teacher in the mall, or at the movies. They loved, they lost, they hurt, they laughed, and they lived, just like the rest of us.

  “I think we all wish we’d known her better,” I replied.

  “She thought highly of you.”

  “She did?”

  He nodded. “Although she’d likely have broken my legs for telling you about the Sanguine spell.”

  “I haven’t done anything about it, if you’re worried.”

  “I’m not worried. It’s up to you how you choose to use the information you are given. However, I think we can all understand your frustration surrounding the Suppressor, even Alton. I’m just able to admit it in a way that he’s not. Given his role in this coven, he’s not able to bend the rules as flexibly as others might.”

  “Hey, I’m in no position to go around blabbing about stuff,” I assured him.

  I hadn’t dwelled on the Sanguine spell and the Suppressor break too much in the last few days, with everything else going on. Plus, with Jacintha’s death and Quetzi’s escape, now didn’t feel like the right time to go around breaking rules or getting on Alton’s bad side. His attitude toward me doing this wasn’t ever going to change, but I needed to choose my moment more carefully, in case it got me kicked out or reported.

  I couldn’t lose this family, too.

  Twenty-Four

  Harley

  The following day, with a fresh determination in my mind, I set off for the Forbidden Section to find out more about Sanguine spells. Like, what was I supposed to do once I had the blood? Did I have to swallow it? The thought of that was almost enough to make me wait for Krieger to do the operation instead. If only we had the time for that. Sadly, we didn’t.

  I stopped on the threshold of the doorway to the library, startled by a figure sitting at the back of the room, hunched over a book, oblivious to my presence. Louella… What was she doing here? She shouldn’t even have been able to gain entry. I thought back to her abilities, remembering the ones we’d yet to see her try out. As well as being a Regen, she had Telepathic and Audial abilities, though we had no idea how strong the last two were. We’d yet to see any sign of her Telepathy, though the ability, by its very nature, worried me. It made me understand how the others felt when I used my Empathy on them.

  I cleared my throat. “Louella?”

  She looked up in surprise. “Harley. Didn’t see you there.”

  “You shouldn’t be in here,” I said.

  “Oh, really? I thought this was just a library. I’ll go. Sorry about that.”

  I smiled. “Not so fast there. How’d you get in? This place has a password, which I’m guessing you already know.”

  Her face paled.

  “It’s okay, I’m not Alton—I’m not going to snitch. I just want to know what you’re doing in here… and how you got in here.”

  “I heard someone say it,” she replied sheepishly. Relief washed over me as she made the admission. Her Audial ability I could handle, especially as it’d been the very thing that had helped her escape the Ryders the first time, at the Devereaux house, when she’d overheard what was happening and made a run for it. Meanwhile, the Regen powers had provided her escape the second time. I really didn’t like the idea of Telepathy at all.

  “I thought so,” I said. “But your answer to my other question…?”

  She eyed the door as if she wanted to dart past me. She must’v
e thought better of it because, instead, she huffed out a breath and lifted the book in her hands. The spine read Mysteries of the Otherworlds. Glancing at her desk as I got closer, I noticed a few books on Greek mythology, too. A light bulb went off in my head as I put the pieces together. We’d looked through most of these books, aside from a few, trying to find information on the Children of Chaos and the five rituals that might make Katherine one of them.

  “You’re looking into the five rituals?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I thought I’d make myself useful now that Marjorie’s gone. Not much else to do.”

  “How do you even know about that?” I got the feeling I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “I… uh, heard about it.”

  “Did you read someone’s mind, Louella?” I sounded weirdly teacher-like, which was new for me.

  Her gaze dropped. “I can’t help when it happens. I don’t have any control over it. Sometimes, I hear things loud and clear from people’s heads; sometimes I can’t hear anything at all. Plus, it gives me these killer migraines, so I try not to do it too often, if I can help it.”

  “Whose mind?”

  “Astrid’s,” she replied stiffly. “I don’t know if it’s because she’s a human or something, but she’s easier to read than most people. With her, there aren’t any walls or barriers to get through first. She’s an open book.”

  “And these headaches—do you always have them when you use your Telepathy?”

  Her mouth turned up in a grim smile. “No, it never used to be a problem. Kenneth poured some liquid thing down my throat while we were at that abandoned port, and I’ve had them ever since. I guess to stop me from reading their minds—not that I’m very good at it anyway.”

  “Have you spoken to Krieger about it?”

  “He said the effects would wear off by themselves; he just couldn’t tell me when, exactly. Could be days or weeks, depending on how much I swallowed.”