I had never been claustrophobic but I have to admit I was getting an itchy feeling about being trapped in a confined space. I found myself wondering how hard it would be to kick out the windshield, and then stopped myself.
Wasn’t this why Gavan had bound us together with that golden cord?
I gave it a gentle pull, followed by a no-nonsense tug. Nothing happened. What was it he had said about trusting in the magick? I was trying very hard to trust, but the magick was definitely making it difficult. He wanted me to give myself over to the situation but he might as well have asked me to fly.
Cross Gavan off the list of solutions.
I pulled out my cellphone and punched in Chloe’s cell.
It went straight to voicemail.
I doubled back and punched in her landline.
I was rewarded with an angry fax squawk.
I reminded myself that this was Sugar Maple, not Bailey’s Harbor. The same rules didn’t apply here. This might not be a mechanical glitch at all.
This might be magick.
Well, they’d messed with the wrong woman today. Thanks to Chloe, I had magick, too, and I wasn’t afraid to use it.
Too bad I didn’t know how.
Chapter 13
CHLOE
“All she wants to do is sleep,” I said to Luke, holding the phone against my right ear while I cradled Laria against my left shoulder. “She won’t eat. She won’t play. She just nuzzles in and goes deeper.”
“You’ve waited ten months for this,” he said, from his hotel room at the Philadelphia airport. “Enjoy.”
“I can’t. Something’s not right, Luke. I just know it.”
“She’s had one hell of a busy day. The workshop. Hanging with Ava. Drawing maps.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I’m tired just listing all of it.”
“You’re not hearing me. She’s not connecting with anything.”
“I am,” he said, “and I think you’re reading too much into exhaustion. She’s a baby. She didn’t nap today. She’s tired. Put her in her crib and relax.”
“You make it sound so simple,” I said with exasperation.
“It can be.”
Easy for him to say. He hadn’t seen her over-the-top behavior. He hadn’t been there when she created those aerial maps. He hadn’t watched her shift gears from near-manic to almost comatose in the blink of an eye. I knew in my gut that it was all connected to Mallory and Ava but I couldn’t figure out how.
“I know what’s going on,” Luke said, jarring me from my thoughts. “She understands that Wendy and Gavan are out there searching the woods for Ava and her mother. She’s been heard. She completed her task. Help is on its way. She can sleep.”
“Is this the cop speaking or the daddy?” I asked.
“A little of both,” he said.
I had to admit it made sense, but I couldn’t help wondering what would happen if Wendy and Gavan failed to find the missing mother and daughter. But, as with so many things, I would worry about that later.
We talked a little more about the storm, flights out of Philly, and how much we missed each other. I hung up, feeling more alone than I had in a very long time.
I also found myself wishing Elspeth were there with me. Lately I’d had the sense she was preparing me for the time when she pierced the veil and joined all who had come before her, but I hoped that wouldn’t be any time soon. I could have used some of her tart trollish wisdom tonight.
The landline rang and, heart racing, I grabbed for it before the noise woke up Laria. Maybe it was Wendy with a progress report.
“We were hoping for good news by now.” Mallory’s mother-in-law sounded edgy and more than a little scared.
“Our people are conducting a search right now,” I said, willing myself to convey nothing but positive energy and confidence. At least one of the searchers qualified as people. “I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I have some news to report.”
“We phoned the police,” she said, her voice quavering just enough for me to notice. “Local and state.”
I sucked in a deep breath. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear but I understood how the woman must have been feeling. “What did they say?”
“Nothing helpful.” There was a note of anger in her voice. “The storm has slowed down and they’ll be sending out the plows and sand trucks within the next few hours. Travelers trapped on the highways will be helped as soon as they can be reached.” She sounded like she was reading from a prepared script and hating every word.
I didn’t say “I told you so,” but I wanted to. Every now and then Mother Nature decided to remind us who was the boss. This was one of those times.
Once again I promised to let her know the second I had any news to report.
She hung up without saying goodbye.
I wanted to be out there searching with Wendy and Gavan. Still cradling a sleeping Laria, I settled down into the rocking chair near the fireplace, and tried to visualize what was happening out there. They had been gone almost an hour but I wasn’t sure how time translated to distance in this case. They could have traveled five feet or five miles. It was anybody’s guess.
“Come on,” I muttered under my breath. “Somebody tell me something.”
The words had no sooner left my mouth than Laria’s eyes shot open and she let out an ear-splitting squeak that sent the cats racing for cover. I leaped to my feet, clutching my wailing daughter, as the back wall of the cottage peeled back and an army of ginger-haired imps spilled into the kitchen on glitter-flecked clouds of cinnamon-scented fog.
The last thing I wanted was an imp infestation. I ordered them to get out but they laughed at me. Have you ever heard an imp laugh? It’s worse than nails on a chalkboard. Imps are always up to no good and once they make a nest in your home, you might as well put the place up for sale.
I threatened bodily harm. I swore to call down the ancestors and turn them into crickets. Nothing worked. They laughed in my face. So did my daughter. Laria, still clutching Ava’s hot pink scrunchie, clapped her hands in delight. They swarmed around us, closer and closer, not quite touching but too close for my comfort.
“Shoo!” That sounded ridiculous even to me. “Get out of here!”
I might as well have been invisible. They were yipping like crazed Chihuahuas, tumbling and somersaulting at my feet. They barely reached ankle-height and probably weighed less than a quart of milk, but for some reason they triggered an almost primitive dislike in me.
Maybe it was the fangs.
Apparently they were just the coming attractions because the second Laria stopped laughing and aimed her golden-eyed gaze in their direction, they turned blue, then green, then whiter than the snow outside, and formed two cheerleading pyramids on either side of the back wall then disappeared.
My daughter’s scream echoed off the mountains that surrounded our town then took aim at my heart.
“Please, Laria, please!” I begged. “What’s wrong? What are you trying to tell me?”
She didn’t register the sound of my voice. Her eyes didn’t meet mine. She was focused inward, to a place I’d never been, and it terrified me. I shivered as beads of cold sweat trickled down my spine. She was my daughter, my flesh and blood. We shared DNA, and yet I had a better chance of making a connection with Rohesia than I did with my own child.
“What do you want?” I begged her to tell me. “Let me help you.”
But she was somewhere else. A soft keening sound escaped her lips and she lifted her head toward the ceiling, eyes wide with expectation.
I jumped as the Book of Spells dropped from the ceiling, spinning like the Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups. Spangles of gold and silver, shards of ruby and sapphire, shot out in every direction, both beautiful and terrifying.
The Book of Spells was mine. I took possession of all it contained on the day I came into my magick. Our history stated the Book obeyed only one Hobbs woman per generation and this was my time. I hadn’t summoned it. So what was it doing
here now, revealing my family’s history on its pages when I hadn’t asked for its presence?
Laria went silent. I could sense her concentration growing stronger as the pages flipped slowly from the beginning of our time. An image of Aerynn flashed by, followed by images of Bronwyn and Maeve and Fiona and Aislyn and the rest of the foremothers who had shaped my destiny and hers. There was an empty page where my mother Guinevere should have been, but she had been banished forever for choosing to die with her mortal husband and leave me to the hands of fate.
My page was a work in progress.
I saw myself in a glittering mirror. The face that looked back at me was old and wrinkled but it was clearly me. A man’s image, faded but true, glowed in the distance behind me. Part illusion, part truth. My stomach knotted. I knew it was Luke. He was older, far older than he was now, but still the man I had fallen in love with, the man I had married. The Book was providing me a look into my future and my blood ran cold with dread. I pushed away the thought that swept in across the landscape like a howling storm. One day I would deal with losing him to time but not now.
Laria’s page had yet to be written. It was the perfect color of a priceless pearl. The only mark on its flawless surface was the glittering circle of gold that gleamed from the center of the page, drawing both her attention and mine.
She was transfixed. Once again her powers of concentration intrigued and terrified me. I brushed her cheek with a gentle index finger, hoping to draw her attention from the Book and back to me, but she didn’t register my touch. She clutched Ava’s hot pink scrunchie to her chest and leaned forward as her image was suddenly reflected back at her from within.
She shifted position, throwing her weight away from me, and before I realized what was happening, she broke free of my arms and sailed straight toward the Book of Spells, and the beckoning circle of gold.
I hurled myself toward her, arms outstretched, straining to grab hold of a tiny arm or leg before she disappeared into the Book’s dimension, but she stayed just beyond my reach. She was a guided missile, locked in on her target, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.
But, wherever she was going, she wasn’t going there without me. I was right behind her as she plunged into the Book and I stayed behind her as we were buffeted by strong interdimensional winds that were carrying us to our destination. This was a section of the Book that I had never seen before. No mind-blowing displays of magick and splendor meant to remind you of the Book’s power. No celestial music. No 3D slideshows featuring Hobbs clan history.
This time it wasn’t about the journey; it was about the destination. No-frills astral travel. The subway versus a private jet.
And my daughter was leading the way.
I kept as close to her as the Book would allow, never losing sight of her, never allowing the combined forces of our magick to separate us. But something was wrong. She was changing before my eyes. The chubby infant was becoming a toddler . . . a little girl . . . an adolescent in full bloom . . . a woman with her own baby growing inside her.
The last of all who came before . . . the last of Aerynn.
I didn’t hear the words; I felt them inside. But they sent shock waves through my body just the same.
The adult Laria was gaining speed, putting space between us. I summoned up every drop of magick I had in me and tried to launch myself into hyperdrive. The straight path that we had been following suddenly veered left, then right, then did a 360 vertical loop that made my head spin. Images flashed by of trees and lakes and villages reminiscent of Laria’s map but more intricate and detailed. Then it went dark and I was spinning through a vortex without light or sound. My skin registered a chill. Moisture beaded on my forehead. I caught the smell of wet earth and tasted salt on my lips.
I tried to call to Laria, but no sound came out.
Faster. I had to move faster. She was still within reach. I could sense her presence the way I could sense my own.
Was this how it was meant to end? I had known for months that Laria’s path would be far different from my own, but I had been her mother for less than a year. I wasn’t ready to let her go, no matter how gifted she might be. I wanted more time with her. I wanted her to have a life of love and joy before the responsibilities of being a descendant of Aerynn took control of her life.
Suddenly the air around me thickened like oatmeal. Moving through it took strength I was no longer sure I had. The harder I tried to speed up, the slower I moved. I was losing her. She was spinning out of my reach. If I didn’t catch up with her now she would be lost to me forever.
I pushed harder, harder than I had on the day I gave birth to her in a blizzard just like this one. I called on every ounce of strength, will power, determination, and, yes, even magick available to me and crashed, screaming, through the Book and back into the human world I knew and loved where I found my baby daughter waiting for me, nestled on a bed of imps, deep inside a cave.
Chapter 14
WENDY
They make it look easy on television.
All you had to do was twitch your nose or wave your hands in the air like you were swatting flies or murmur some weird words over a crystal ball while spooky smoke wreathed your face. Bingo! Instant magick.
Maybe if you were born magick it worked that way, but for someone who had just had a little magick dumped on her, it wasn’t turning out to be very helpful. Oh sure, I had been able to glide over the snow at speeds even my car couldn’t manage but that was pretty much where it stopped for me.
I tried everything to unlock the doors of Mallory’s minivan but no luck. I even tried kicking out a window but ended up with a sore foot instead. Trust me, if I’d had access to some eye of newt or heel of toad, I would have tried that too. Captivity wasn’t a good fit for me. The snow had finally stopped, which was a relief, but it was dark out there and I was alone. Whoever or whatever had set me up like this was probably having a great laugh right about now.
Or planning his or her next step.
I wasn’t crazy about that thought.
I tugged again on the cord that bound me to Gavan but once more there was no response. I’m not an expert on the workings of magick, but I had the feeling I was stuck between the old and the new that Chloe was always talking about. I phoned Chloe again, both numbers, and met the same end results. This time the calls went through but she didn’t answer. The phrase “sitting duck” floated through my mind. Nobody knew where I was. Even I didn’t know exactly where I was. I was unnerved to realize I could see out which meant everyone else could see in.
And pretty soon I was going to need a bathroom break.
I’m not one of those women who cry over every little thing. I got through my divorce without depleting Bailey’s Harbor’s supply of tissues. But I was quickly reaching my breaking point.
Once again Sugar Maple had reminded me I didn’t belong there. Even with my own touch of magick, however temporary, I still didn’t fit in. I was the blue-eyed child in a family with brown eyes. The tall kid in a group of shrimps. The woman who cleaned houses for a living while her best friends performed brain surgery or created groundbreaking software or turned Wall Street straw into gold.
I should have stayed behind at the cottage and offered to watch Laria so Chloe could go off searching for Mallory and Ava. She was the one who knew the area. She was the one overflowing with magick. She wouldn’t have gotten herself locked in a totaled car like a schmuck.
And that was when the crying started. Like I said, I didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to giant bouts of self-pity but it looked like I was about to get some on-the-job training. I did my best to hold back but the dam broke and I was off to the races. I hadn’t cried that hard when my husband said he was leaving me for a younger, prettier, more fertile version. And it was one of those ugly cries that leave you looking like you were fighting six hangovers at the same time.
I wondered if Gavan had ever seen a woman in the throes of a crying jag. I wasn’t sure
if the magicks of his clan cried or if they were too busy doing whatever it was they did all day to make ends meet. I wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. Would he recognize what was happening or would he think I had lost my mind?
He had shown great compassion for Chloe and Luke when he broke off the betrothal and enabled them to marry but what else was going on inside his heart? I knew there was something happening between us, some kind of powerful attraction, but maybe sexual chemistry was as far as it went.
And that made me cry even harder.
Chloe had warned me from the start. “You don’t understand the nature of magicks,” she had said, her amber eyes dark with concern for my recently-broken heart. “Especially magicks who practice the old ways.”
She was talking about Gavan and the elusive happily-ever-after ending we searched for like it was the Holy Grail. Maybe all of that talk about love conquers all and we’re all the same inside was a bunch of crap. Even if Gavan were willing to risk everything to be with me, Rohesia would snuff me out like I was an ant at a picnic. I saw the way she looked at me the few times our paths crossed and it wasn’t good. She’d aim her magickal can of Raid in my direction and poof! I’d be history.
Not that it mattered. I was probably going to die of starvation in this minivan before she had the chance to get rid of me.
Or maybe this had been her idea from the start. Nothing like locking a girl up in an abandoned vehicle to show her where she stood in the scheme of things.
Self-pity was pushed aside by good old-fashioned anger. Maybe she could make sure her grandson did her bidding but she had no hold on me. She didn’t control my thoughts, my actions, or my future. In fact, she could take her old-world magick and stick it up her magickal butt.
The thought made me laugh out loud. I didn’t owe her anything. She wasn’t my grandmother or my leader or my friend. She might be ancient and possess powers I could only dream about but I was a red-blooded human female who didn’t need magick to make her life complete.
Entangled- The Homecoming Page 10
