Echoes to Ashes (The Immortal Trials Book 1)

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Echoes to Ashes (The Immortal Trials Book 1) Page 4

by Ainsley Shay


  All of my worst feelings—anger, spite, hate—melded into an overload of resentment and panic. I yanked the bracelet off my wrist, then let it fall to the floor. I felt as if a tether around my neck had been freed, and I took a deep breath.

  Boone hooted and flapped his wings. A breeze swept up the papers in my notebook, then they fell back in place. The owl tucked in his wings. With a combination of walking and hopping, he made his way over to perch himself above my head on an outstretched branch.

  Raising my head, I held out my hand to him. “What do you want?”

  He answered with, “Who, who, who.”

  A light gust of wind drifted by. My hair lifted off my shoulders, cascading down my back. This time, Boone hadn’t moved or shifted. Chills scampered up my arms, racing over my body. The palms of my hands dampened with sweat. I glanced at the bracelet. The red bead glistened from the string of bulbs above me.

  Something felt off. I felt off.

  A gnat flew in front of my face, and I shooed it away.

  The leaves rustled behind me.

  Boone screeched.

  I looked at the door, but no one had come in.

  When I turned back to the counter, all the candles had blown out.

  5

  I stared at my hand in disbelief.

  Impossible.

  Okay, yeah. No way could I have just done that. I picked up the bracelet, examining it. My head was playing with me. Between the move, my parents leaving, the stupid bracelet, idiot Cameron and his girlfriend, this place, pink bicycles, deadly bluffs, witchy shops, fake flowers in hanging skulls—the combination of it all had to be getting to me. I wanted to scream.

  My chest compressed, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  Boone hooted as the front door to the shop opened. I jumped. Gasping, I drank in a gulp of air. Isla knotted the fabric of her deep purple skirt in her hand as she came toward me. The unrecognizable melodious tune she hummed stopped as she abruptly halted in front of me. The rich fabric she held fell to the floor. Her hand reached up, then took my chin between her thumb and forefinger. She twisted my head from side to side.

  “My dear child, what happened to you?”

  My stomach sank. I could only imagine what my face looked like… pale, stricken, shocked. I knew it wasn’t blood red because I hadn’t felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Fine—you are not. You look like you’ve just seen the devil himself.”

  The bird screeched again.

  “Keep it to yourself, Boone,” Isla called out. Her gaze drifted to the counter. “What happened to the candles?”

  Grasping the bracelet in between my palms, I took a deep breath and glanced at the collection of candles. Wisps of smoke still streamed toward the ceiling. “I—I…don’t know.” I wasn’t sure if I believed my word, but I wanted to with all of my being. Afraid to let more of my fear show, I turned away from her.

  “If they bother you, we don’t have to light them—”

  “No, they’re fine.”

  “There you go with that “fine” word again.” Isla waved her hand in the air. “Why don’t I light them, and you go to the bathroom and freshen up? Splash some cool water on your face; that should help.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but I slid off the stool anyway and headed to the back of the store. The bracelet was still grasped in my palms. When I thought I was safe from Isla’s gaze, I waved my arm in an arc around me when I neared the bathroom.

  Nothing happened.

  I let out a breath of relief. My shoulders relaxed, and I took several inhalations of the sweet, sage scented air. I had to be losing my mind. After I set the bracelet on the edge of the sink, I turned on the faucet. The cool stream of water flowed into my hands. I lowered my face to my hands. As I raised my head, one of the bulbs on the vanity light flickered and went out. A conversation between multiple people could be heard when I shut off the water. Curious, I quickly dried my hands and face.

  The remaining lit light bulb caught water glistening on the left side of my face. I pulled a few paper towels off the roll, then dabbed my face.

  A single glistening mark remained high on my left cheekbone. I rubbed the paper towel over it, but it didn’t come off. My pulse picked up. What now? No—it wasn’t anything. Just like with the windy thing—it was only my imagination. I inched closer to the mirror.

  This—this was definitely not nothing. Its shape was abstract, thin, swooping lines that thickly curved at the ends were on the outside. In the narrow center were two graceful lines. The marking was balanced. The iridescent, almost nonexistent color made it look elegant. Tentatively, I raised my hand toward my cheek. My hand shook as it neared the mark. The instant my fingers traced the edge of one of the fine lines, a spark reflected in the mirror. I jerked my hand away.

  It was smooth and barely raised above skin level.

  “Everly, dear, please come hither.”

  Isla’s singsong voice could be heard over my beating heart, the blood pumping hard through my veins, and the roaring in my ears.

  My eyes widened into emerald orbs of panic. “I can’t go out there! Not with this thing on my face,” I told the girl in the mirror.

  I tried to rub it off again, but then gave up. Once I picked up my bracelet from the vanity, I shoved it into my pocket. When I came around the corner, I saw three people in front of the counter. Isla was on the side of the register.

  “Ah, there’s my beautiful associate.”

  Doing my best to hide the new development on my face, I tried to act like I had an itch at the corner of my eye. I nodded, doing my best to offer a smile to the man and two women. They returned the gesture.

  “These nice people want to take the boat tour of Veil Rock. Captain Holst Junior runs that divine and exciting excursion.” Isla made a point to wink at the potential customers. “The cost is twenty dollars per person. That price includes the tour, a guided map, and a granola bar and bottle of water for the trip. And I recommend buying a T-shirt now at the discounted price of five bucks. If you buy it later—and trust me, I know you’ll want it—it’ll cost ten.”

  The man nodded. “We’ll take three tickets with the T-shirts.” He took out his wallet, then handed a wad of cash to Isla.

  He had a slight English accent.

  Isla clapped her hands together. “Wonderful.” She reached under the counter, then pulled out brochures with what I assumed was a ticket sticking out from the top of each. “The captain will give you the snack and water when you board.”

  The blonde woman took the brochures from her. “Thank you.”

  Isla’s face grew serious. “That was the easy part,” she explained. “You’re to meet at the dock in the morning. The directions are on the back of the brochure. It’s best if you arrive fifteen minutes early because the boat waits for no one, and it leaves at eight A.M. sharp. You may bring your camera and a small backpack. No weapons of any kind are permitted. If you see a creature coming too close to the boat, I’ll assure you Captain Holst has already spotted it and will make the appropriate decision on how best to handle the situation.”

  The blonde stiffened.

  “Oh, don’t worry, dear.” Isla chuckled, lightly touching the woman’s arm. “Nothin’ has been spotted in years. It’s just my duty per Captain Holst that I state that little disclaimer.”

  “It’ll be fine,” the man said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  The woman relaxed a little.

  Isla came out from behind the counter. “Let me get you your T-shirts, then you can be on your way.”

  I stayed where I was.

  A few minutes later, Boone hooted as the customers left the store.

  For a split second, I forgot about the fresh mark on my face and lowered my hand.

  Isla’s bright smile beamed at me. “You did great.” Her eyes traveled over the features of my face.

  My heart slammed into my ribs. I quickly tried to cover the iridescent mark. “I’m not sure I di
d anything,” I sputtered.

  Ignoring me, she pulled my hand away from the corner of my eye. “Do you have a bug bite or something?” she asked, then put on her glasses for a closer inspection.

  I tried to back away, but she held my wrist firmly.

  “Nope, I don’t see anything.”

  Huh? I wanted to run to the mirror, but that would cause too much suspicion. Pushing back the rush of adrenaline, I found enough control to stay put and listen to Isla.

  She let go of my hand and tsked. “You just learned how to sell tickets for the tour of Veil Rock.”

  I pondered her words. “Aren’t we in Veil Rock?”

  Isla turned to the corner of the counter where a stack of mail had been placed. She picked it up, then began sifting through it. “That we are, my dear.”

  Confusion was beginning to fester.

  “Come on, I have something that may help you understand.” Isla motioned me over to the bookcase, then pulled out a thick book. It was the same one that had intrigued me on my first day. The worn spine read, Legend of Veil Rock.

  She thumbed through the yellowed pages. “This book will fill in a lot of the history of Veil Rock. Believe it or not, this small town has a fascinating story… and a lot of it is based on magic.”

  More than intrigued, I perked up at that tidbit of information.

  She handed me the book. “The Warlock’s story alone is a wonderful read.”

  I took the book from her outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

  She twirled away. “Read it with an open heart and open mind.”

  The last hour had killed me. Isla had given me a few things to do around the store. By the time I was done, it was past noon and I was starving. But mostly, I wanted to check the mark on my face to make sure it had disappeared. “Do you mind if I go grab something to eat?” I called.

  “Not at all, dear.”

  I got my wristlet from behind the counter, then picked up Legend of Veil Rock to read while I ate. I asked Isla if she wanted anything, but she declined. Tiptoeing by a sleeping Boone, I headed out the door and into the blazing sun. There were only a few people wandering around Carousel as I crossed to the other side to get a slice of pizza at Poe’s. I paused near the carousel in the center of the courtyard. The horses had probably been pretty at one time, but now they were weathered, their details faded by years of getting baked in the sun.

  Poe’s was a typical Italian restaurant. Red-and-white checkered cloths covered the tables. On each were shakers with pepper flakes and Parmesan and a vase with a single rose. The decor on the walls were pictures of fresh vegetables, breads, and cheeses. It reminded me of the place my parents always got pizza from on Friday nights. A small swell of sadness built in my chest before I caught it and stuffed it back down into the trenches of my anger toward them.

  I glanced at the menu on the wall. Behind the counter, a man with a thick face and goatee asked what he could get me. With pen poised over a simple order pad, he waited for my answer.

  “I’ll take a slice of cheese and a small soda.”

  “That’ll be three dollars.”

  I handed him a five. He punched a few keys on the cash register, then handed my change over to me.

  “The cheese pie should be done in about two minutes.”

  “Thanks,” I said, putting the change in my wallet. “Where’s your restroom?”

  “Straight back. Ladies’ room is the second door on the left.”

  I made my way toward the back of the restaurant. The preacher who stopped by the shop yesterday sat in the back corner at a high-top table for two. I wasn’t sure why I thought a preacher eating pizza was funny; they had to eat, too. Biting my lip, I started to move passed him.

  He lifted a piece of pizza to his mouth, but paused when he noticed me. I stumbled when I saw a similar mark on the side of his wrist, near his thumb. His eyes darted to the mark only for a second before he set his pizza down, narrowing his eyes at me. Lifting his hand to his cheek, he tapped it and then pointed at me.

  The starving sensation I felt only moments ago was replaced with alarm and dread. Shudders rocked my entire body as I raced passed him to the bathroom.

  My quiet chants of, “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” turned into a silent scream I held in with a hand over my mouth. I dared myself to look in the mirror. When I did, tears sprang into action as the horrifying sight before me materialized. The mark was as clear as it had been earlier.

  6

  I wanted to run. More than that, though, I dreaded leaving the safety of the bathroom and facing the preacher again. Maybe if I stayed in here long enough, he’d leave. No, that wasn’t an option. I wiped the wetness from my eyes, glancing in the mirror again. The mark was still there. I shouldn’t have expected different; I had just hoped for something different. Closing my eyes, I pulled open the door of the bathroom. The preacher hadn’t moved.

  Glancing up at me, he tilted his head. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  His voice was different than I remembered from the shop. It was more inquisitive, and there was an understanding of sorts laced throughout his question. Did I want to talk about it? It being what? The mark on my face? His mark? Joining his church?

  Too stricken with shock, I couldn’t even shake my head to indicate no. Instead, I did what I wanted to do the instant he saw the mark—I ran. Weaving my way through the few customers who had arrived while I was in the bathroom, I sprinted to the front door. I was dizzy with the need to escape. Behind me, I heard the preacher call out for me to wait. I ignored him. As I came around the small bend, my shoulder hit something hard. There was barely any time to see what or who I slammed into, since the action had me on my way toward the floor. But light eyes flashing as a boy caught me by my upper arm to keep me from doing a face plant was hard to miss.

  Grateful and pissed off at the same time, I shook off the hand and righted myself.

  Cameron stood no more than a foot from me. His breath smelled like sweet mint.

  Seriously? Of all the people on this earth, it had to be him?

  “Hey, you okay?” he asked.

  To his left, Hartley stood with a smirk the size of Texas on her face, along with several others I recognized from school. Without trying to stifle her enjoyment of watching me nearly fall, she said, “She looks fine to me… except for that mark on her face.”

  My breath caught somewhere in my chest. Was that why everyone was staring at me? I was a freak in a freak show. Horrified, I moved my hand to my cheek.

  “Not there, you dimwit. There.” Hartley pointed to my chin.

  Confusion was playing with my head. Of all people, Hartley would definitely point out the curled iridescent lines near my eye. Yet, it was like she didn’t see them. Maybe they had disappeared again.

  I didn’t bother to touch my chin. Over Cameron’s shoulder, I saw the preacher get up from his seat. Before I was able to even catch my breath, I pushed open the door and ran.

  “You forgot your pizza!”

  I didn’t look back. It would probably be days before my appetite would return. The door to Poe’s closed, cutting off the chatter and hollering. I ran until I was in the center of the courtyard near the carousel. The sweeping limbs of the tree brushed along the sloping roof of the carnival ride.

  I stepped onto the platform. Slipping my foot into one of the rotting leather straps, I climbed onto the back of a horse. Its paint was chipped and peeling. I rested my head against the brass pole. It was cool despite the temperature of the day. If I could, I would hide out here for the rest of the day. But I couldn’t just disappear and leave Isla wondering what happened to me.

  “Everly Shade.”

  I jerked upright at the sound of my name.

  Cameron stood next to the carousel. His feet were planted a good distance apart. With his arms crossed over his chest, he eyed me.

  My racing heart began to settle down. Cameron was better than the preacher. Wasn’t he? I honestly didn’t know. It wa
sn’t like I’d given the preacher a chance. His only flaw so far had been he caught me off guard on so many levels—from visiting the witchy shop to having a freaky-similar mark like mine.

  “What happened back there?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I quickly said, too quickly for it to be the truth.

  Cameron combed his fingers through his hair. “Look, don’t tell me. That’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  I let my head fall to the side to face him. “Please don’t start caring now. We wouldn’t want your unflawed jerk-status to be bruised with kindness.”

  “I know I come off wrong a lot of the time, but—”

  “I’m fine,” I lashed out. The last thing I felt was fine, but he didn’t have to know that. I swung my leg over the horse, then slid down. “I have to get back to work.” Without a backward glance, I started striding toward The Warlock’s Workshop.

  “You shouldn’t get caught up in all that witchy shit.”

  I stopped, unable to take another step. The book in my hand suddenly felt very heavy. I slowly turned toward him. “You don’t believe in magic?”

  Cameron scoffed. “No, none of that supernatural crap, and neither should you.” He nodded to the book in my hand. “Veil Rock is nothing but dead space with a few desperate inhabitants searching for any chance to get out.”

  I heard him, but Veil Rock was beginning to feel like the exact opposite to me. “I’m not sure I agree with that.” What I’d noticed was a unique town with a ton of secrets, most of which no one ever wanted discovered.

  “All I’m saying is don’t believe everything you read in that book, or what Isla tells you,” he countered. “If you haven’t noticed, she’s a little out there.”

  I entered his personal space. “You don’t know me or anything about me, but what I choose to believe is my business.”

  “I’m just trying to save you from some heartbreak.” He held up his hands in defense. “All I’m sayin’ is unicorns aren’t real.”

 

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