“I… have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.”
“They can attach their… soul to a warlock, they pledge themselves to him. When they do that, their life force is also attached to him.”
“I don’t… I still don’t understand.”
I closed my eyes in frustration. “I think you attached your soul to mine, Grady. I think your soul pledged itself to mine, that your soul linked with me.”
He shook his head and lifted his shoulder, still not getting it.
“If your soul is attached to mine, that means you’ll… live as long as I do, that you’ll… need to stay close to me… that you’ll… want to be with me.” I felt a tug of magic and I breathed out, “Gods no. Not right now.”
“What are you—”
Grady was cut off as I was dragged back to the real world and forced back into my position in the snow globe. It wasn’t surprising that it was Laz walking into the living room. His presence had called upon the spell of my prison. He was the only person—that I knew of—that had a key to Grady’s place.
Laz walked right over to the snow globe and examined it. It took me a moment to realize he was examining my cottage, not me or Tiberius. Laz grinned widely, then called out, “Grades! Wake up!”
I heard cursing and stumbling upstairs for a few minutes before Grady came barreling down the steps and into the living room, saying, “What? What is it?”
“I have something for you.”
Grady glared at him. “Do you know that it’s two o’clock in the morning?”
Laz nodded. “I didn’t think you’d want me to wait.” He sat on the couch and pulled out a very large old book. “Look at this.”
“You woke me up to look at—”
“It’s a grimoire.”
That got my attention of course. But how could Laz have a grimoire?
Grady sat beside him and asked, “What is that?”
“A book of… spells… like a secret book that only wizards or warlocks or witches or whatever you call them keep. As far as I can tell, they’re usually passed down in a family. I’d always thought they were bullshit, but I thought you’d want to take a look…”
“So… how did you get one?”
“It was in an old storage locker that someone stopped paying on. There was a whole bunch of random things in there that I had my eye on, so I bought the whole locker. I was digging through everything tonight when I stumbled on this old-ass book.” He passed the book to Grady and pointed to the front cover. “Look at that symbol.”
Grady examined it for a few moments before his eyes went wide and he jumped up, rushing over to the snow globe. His eyes darted back and forth between my cottage and the book before he whispered, “They match.”
As if Grady read my mind, he held the book up in front of the globe so I could see the front cover, and my breath caught. He was right, it did match. It matched the symbol I’d slowly carved into the cottage’s roof so many years ago. The symbol on the grimoire’s cover was my family crest. That was… my family’s grimoire.
Chapter 9
Grady
I spent the entire day poring over the grimoire with Laz. I never even went back to sleep, too engrossed in reading everything I could inside. What were the chances of him finding that months after he found the snow globe? Was it a coincidence? Was it fate? Had Alaric somehow brought the grimoire to me like he’d brought the flowers and chocolates? We’d searched online for any information on the symbol itself, but so far, we hadn’t found anything that matched.
Alaric’s confession kept running through my head, too. I couldn’t believe he’d been afraid to share that with me. It saddened me to know that he must’ve had rejections in the past for something he couldn’t control. He hadn’t had anyone in his corner his entire life, and I planned on changing that. If he were here—if I could free him—I’d prove to him that he wasn’t a freak, that he was worthy of love, that I would be perfectly happy simply holding him and kissing him and just being with him. That was all I wanted; to be with him. I needed him in my life. It was as if there was a visceral part of me that was longing for that beautiful man, and if I ever found a way to have him, I’d take whatever part of him he’d give.
When morning hit, there was a knock on the door, and I wasn’t entirely surprised to see a delivery boy from the florist on my doorstep. I accepted the flowers—roses—and after shutting the door, I read the note.
Grady,
My deepest apologies for my behavior the last week. I beg your forgiveness, and I hope to see you again soon—as soon as you allow me.
Yours Forevermore,
A.B.
When Laz reached for the note, I took it and stuffed it into my pocket. It was private, meant only for me, for Alaric and me. I didn’t want to share it with anyone, not even my best friend. Laz frowned at me, but when I told him they were from A.B., he let it go.
Laz and I read through as much as we could, trying to decipher the writing and the way things were said. Some of it wasn’t written in English, so it took a while for us to interpret it, but a good portion of it was. The further we got, the more I realized it wasn’t just a book of spells, it was more like a family album with their secrets laced throughout.
Once I had that realization, I flipped to the end.
“What are you doing?”
“What if there’s something about Alaric in here? It can’t be a coincidence that the symbol matches the snow globe. What if this is his family’s grimoire? He told me that he’s a warlock.”
Laz looked doubtful, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. If I was in his position, I highly doubt I’d believe me either. The fact that he’d helped me this much was a testament to our friendship, really.
I found the end, then backtracked a few pages before coming to a stop on a picture. It was old, so old and faded it was hard to make out the photograph, but as soon as I saw it, I gasped. There was no doubt in my mind that it was Alaric.
“What?”
“It’s him,” I whispered, showing Laz the photo.
He squinted at it, then looked at the inscription below it and read out loud, “Alaric Galen Crane Bloodgood.” He looked up at me with wide eyes. “Alaric Bloodgood.” He jumped up to look at the snow globe and breathed, “It’s uncanny, really. The detail…” He whistled.
I nodded. “I told you… he’s… he’s real.” A slow smile spread across my face. “Laz, he’s… real.”
“This is strange, I’ll give you that, but this isn’t proof that the man in your dreams is an actual real, breathing person. That snow globe could’ve been modeled after this very picture for all we know.”
“What more evidence do you want?”
“Uh, how about him here in the flesh.”
I sighed in frustration.
“Look at that date, Grades… it’s from two hundred years ago.”
I gestured toward the snow globe. “He’s trapped in there.”
Laz stared at me for a long moment as he sat back down. “You realize you sound like a crazy person, right? I mean, an actual, real person that’s lost his mind. I was… humoring you before, but… you’re starting to scare me a little.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I know it sounds crazy. I can hardly believe it myself, but… I can feel him, Laz. I know… my heart knows he’s real.”
If anything, my words made him look even more worried.
“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I closed the book and held it tight to my lap so he wouldn’t try to take it back. I wasn’t above fighting him for it.
After scrutinizing me for a while, he blew out a sigh and started to stand. “Yeah, okay. I’ll call you in the morning. Did you want to come with me to my grandmother’s tomorrow night for dinner?”
Right. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. After a quick glance at the snow globe, I shook my head. “No, not this year. But we’re still celebrating with your family the day after Christmas, right?” I’d
been going with him for years. He went to his mom’s on Christmas every year, but the day after, his sister flew into town with her family, so they got together then, too.
“I’ll pick you up on the way, but don’t you want to come with me on Christmas, too?”
“Um… can I let you know? I’m not sure I’m up for it, but I’ll be there to see Maureen and the kids for sure.”
He nodded, and when I walked him to the door, he pulled me into a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Laz.” I gave him a huge squeeze before shutting the door behind him.
Rushing back into the living room, I opened the grimoire and began reading the section that started with the birth of Alaric Galen Crane Bloodgood.
“Grady?”
Opening my eyes on a yawn, I glanced around before a smile spread over my face. I was back in the cabin, and Alaric was sitting beside me on the couch. “Hey.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded and sat up. “I must’ve dozed off while I was reading.”
“You did, but when I got here, you were… sleeping on the couch, so I didn’t know if you were sick or not. It seemed odd to be sleeping in our dream.”
“I feel fine. A little tired, maybe, but I’m good.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Laz found your family grimoire.”
“I saw.”
“I was reading about your life before I fell asleep.”
“I saw that too.”
His tone seemed off, so I asked, “Did you… not want me to?”
“It isn’t that.”
“Then what is it? Why do you look so worried?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I suppose I’m nervous about what the grimoire says about me.”
That was… not what I expected. “Haven’t you read it?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never been allowed to read it.”
I gaped at him. “But I thought parents were supposed to share the knowledge with their children? I thought that was how you learned magic. That’s what the book said and what Laz kept prattling on about all day.”
His shoulder lifted up again. “That isn’t how my father taught me, but… you probably know that already.”
“I…” Okay, yeah, maybe I got the sense that his father didn’t teach him conventionally, but… “It only alluded to it, so I didn’t know for sure.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“There was an entire section of the book ripped out.”
“What?”
“I can see the frayed edges where the pages were ripped out. It seems like you went from being six years old to ten overnight.”
“My father… he… he ripped the pages out?” The grief that suddenly covered Alaric’s entire face made me wish I hadn’t said anything.
“I’m guessing it was him, but I guess it could’ve happened after he was… gone.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s spelled. A human wouldn’t be able to rip, destroy, or harm the book in any way.”
“Why would he want those pages out?”
“I had an older brother.”
I froze and faced him with wide eyes. “Had?”
“He died. Before my ninth birthday. He… there was an accident, the magical kind, and Father, he… he couldn’t save him. Raphael was… he burned…”
“Holy shit, Alaric. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I didn’t… I didn’t realize.” It hadn’t been in the book, not one mention of his brother.
“It’s alright. I’m not surprised my father ripped his pages out. He was… stricken for a long time after the accident. Never quite himself after that.”
Every time I learned something new about Alaric’s life, it was more tragic than the last. This poor man had lived through hell as a child, then suffered for hundreds of years alone in the globe. How in the world was he still such a kind, sweet man after all he’d been through?
Scooting closer to him, I took his hands in both of mine for a moment, then decided that alone wasn’t enough, so I let go only to drape my arms around him. He was stiff for a few minutes, but eventually gave in and rested his cheek on my shoulder, allowing me to hold and hug him.
We stayed that way for a long time, and I rubbed gentle shapes on his back, loving giving him comfort and taking some in return. Maybe this was a dream, and maybe it was nuts, but I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be close to him. It made me wonder what it would feel like if I ever got to hold him in real life.
I asked, “What’s your nickname?”
His brow furrowed a little. “I don’t have one.”
“The other day, I looked up nicknames for Alaric, and came up with Al, Ric, Ricky, Alar, Alec, Lars, Aric, Ace… I think that was it.”
He stared at me like I had three heads. The expression was… adorable on him—not something I’d typically say about another guy, but it was somehow fitting for Alaric.
“I think I like Ric.”
“Oh-okay.”
I grinned at him a little. “Do you mind if I call you Ric?”
He shook his head, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. “That’s… nice. I’ve never had that before.”
I squeezed his hand tight. “I’m going to get you out of that snow globe,” I murmured.
He sighed and sagged, heavier in my arms. “You can’t. No one can.”
“I read something at the beginning of the grimoire. It said something about a curse having to have a stipulation. Whenever someone creates a curse, they have to include a way for it to be broken, otherwise, the curse’s hold won’t be as strong. Since you’ve been stuck in there for so long, I can only assume that means it’s a very strong curse, so… there has to be a loophole.”
He was quiet for a long time, but eventually he whispered, “Please don’t get your hopes up, Grady… don’t get my hopes up. It’s difficult enough as it is.”
My heart broke at that, but it made me all the more determined to find a way to release him from his curse.
Normally, I was overly excited for Christmas Eve and Christmas, but this year, all I could think about was how I wasn’t getting to spend the holidays with the one person I wanted to. Maybe Laz didn’t believe me that the man in my dreams was real, but I did. I knew in my heart that Alaric was as real as I was, and I was more determined than ever to get him out of his tiny prison.
Prison. Funny how it used to grate on me when he’d call it that, but now I knew what an apt word it really was for it.
I’d spent the day reading Alaric’s section of the grimoire, hoping I’d come across a clue. So far, all I’d come across were terrible stories about all the horrible things his father had done to him. His life, if you could call it that, had been filled with sorrow and bloodshed.
The first time I’d read the section that talked about what a fierce fighter Alaric was, I’d thought I’d somehow skipped to a different relative, but I hadn’t. His father had… trained him in the art of killing, and he’d used him to do his bidding. He’d sent him on missions to take “care of” rivals. What kind of person did that? He’d used Alaric, and every time Alaric had refused his father, he’d been whipped for it.
A full body shudder shot through me at the thought.
How had Alaric remained gentle and kind and caring after everything his father did to him?
With a frustrated groan, I shut the grimoire and stood up to stretch. It was nearly midnight, and while I might not have been in the holiday mood, tomorrow was still Christmas and I should probably get a little shut eye. Plus, if I went to sleep now, I could dream-walk with Alaric.
Staring at the snow globe, I told it, “I’m going to sleep down here tonight… I don’t want you to be all alone on Christmas Eve.” Obviously, there was no reply, so naturally, I kept talking. “Alaric, I wish… I wish with all of my heart that you could be here with me. Really here. I w
ish I could pull you out of your prison and set you free. I wish… I wish I could kiss you for real.” The last part was barely above a whisper. Emotion made my chest tighten. “I wish you could be with me in more than just my dreams.”
Suddenly, a gust of wind flew through the room, making my hair ruffle on top of my head. Dropping my feet to the floor, I gaped at the snow globe as smoke and mist began pouring from it. I stood, ready to rush over to put the fire out—wherever it was—but the wind picked up inside my freaking living room, and I was stuck in place. The smoke filled the entire room, and I could see that it was originating from somewhere on the mantel. My eyes watered, not from the sting, but because I was terrified that something was wrong with Alaric. What if his cottage had caught fire? He and Tiberius would be stuck in there with no way out.
As I had the thought, the smoke was suddenly sucked back toward the snow globe, but instead of going back inside it, it started to form a shape. At first, I assumed it was some kind of… smoke monster? but then the smoke became denser, and I realized it was in the shape of a human. I tried to push through the wind that was still holding me in place, but I couldn’t budge as the white smoke slowly bled to other pigments.
In the span of a breath, I was staring at something that looked like a watercolor painting, and then it shimmered and glowed brightly and I… I was staring at Alaric. In the flesh. In front of me. In my living room.
My breath caught as I whispered his name, “Alaric.”
His eyes widened a moment before a huge white blur flew at my head, narrowly missing me. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see a huge snowy owl perch on the back of a dining room chair, but I quickly turned back to the man in my living room.
My eyes met wide, brown ones, and he croaked, “Grady?” a moment before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell to the ground.
I rushed forward, trying to catch him, but I was too far away. Kneeling beside his head, I slowly reached out and poked him with my finger. When it hit something solid, I gasped, then quickly cupped his cheeks. “Alaric? Wake up. Alaric?”
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