Instead, Laurel and I hiked through the woods behind the Summers house to search for a good spot. The trails were overgrown, but it didn’t deter Laurel. The weeds and roots parted beneath her feet, clearing a path for us as we traveled deeper into the forest.
At some point, the barn appeared between the trees. It was decrepit and falling down. In this reality, Morgan had never renovated it into an apartment. Laurel walked right past it, but a familiar feeling tugged me to a halt.
“Hey, wait a second,” I called to Laurel. “I want to check inside here.”
Laurel backtracked to look at the dilapidated barn. “This place is a wreck. If a bird lands on the roof, the whole thing will cave in.”
“Your house doesn’t look much better.”
The comment humbled Laurel. She grumbled under her breath as I stepped over the brush and into the yard around the barn. The pavers I’d laid were gone. The wood walls were rotting, damaged by hungry termites. Rust locked the sliding door.
I yanked hard, but it didn’t come loose. With a little help of my craft, the rust turned to powder and fell off the door.
“Look out!” Laurel called.
With nothing to hold it up, the heavy metal door fell off the barn. I stumbled out of the way as it crashed to the ground and sprayed leaves and dirt everywhere. The inside of the barn was dark except for the places where the sun shined through the holes in the roof. With cautious steps, I went inside.
Long ago, the Summers had kept horses here. The pens were mostly intact. Moldy hay was piled in the corners. The sharp smell of horse poop still permeated the air. When I accidentally knocked over a pitchfork, several bats took flight from the loft, their soft leathery wings brushing against my face as they flew by me. When I turned around, several of them were hanging upside down off of Laurel’s arms.
“Ah, friends,” she sighed. “I’ve missed you.”
“Uh, Laurel?” I snapped my fingers to get her attention. “We’ve got work to do here.”
Laurel dismissed her bat friends with a shake and some encouraging whispers. As they disappeared into the trees, I beckoned Laurel into the barn.
“We should do it here,” I told her.
“Here?” She wrinkled her nose as she took in the state of the place. “Why? It smells worse than it looks.”
“In my reality, Morgan turned this place into her apartment.” I pointed to the loft. “Right up there, I called her back from the dead the first time. This place has history. At least try to reach out?”
Laurel hugged herself as she moved further inside. Not all the bats had flown the coop. Some of them watched us with beady eyes. Though creepy to me, Laurel took comfort in the presence of her animal friends. She closed her eyes and let her arms fall to her sides. As she breathed, the barn seemed to move with the rise and fall of her chest. The vines and weeds that had wrapped themselves around the building reached out for the youngest Summers witch. Her palms glowed with her sky-blue craft, making the barn seem like a sunny day at the beach.
Her eyes snapped open, and she stared up at the loft. “You’re right,” she said. “The border between this world and the next is thinner here. We have to get up to the loft.”
The wooden ladder that led up to the loft looked one good kick away from vanishing into dust. I cast a spell to solidify the wood. Green light wrapped around each ladder step all the way up to the top. I tested the bottom step. It held.
“Up we go.”
We climbed into the loft, and the sense of deja vu washed over me. When I was first faced with pulling Morgan out of the otherworld without any help, I was terrified. Morgan’s enemy had lifted an army of dead from the earth, the coven was under a curse to keep them compliant, and I was the only one with the opportunity to save Morgan. But I was also scared because saving Morgan meant slicing a huge gash in my wrist and trusting her enough to return the favor once she returned from the otherworld. It was the main reason why she and I were so bonded: we did share blood, just not the way a family usually did.
Laurel nudged me out of my reveries. “Are you okay?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes. Are you ready to do this?”
She shook out her arms and legs. The Laurel I knew was never this antsy, but losing her entire family had taken a toll on her. “Yup. Let’s get this done. If there’s a better reality out there, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to find it.”
Laurel closed her eyes and turned her palms upward. As she called upon the forces of nature around her, the wind played with her hair and the dead leaves that had fallen through the broken barn roof swirled around her feet like a miniature tornado. Laurel never lost focus. No matter how much the elements blew her about, she stood firm. On the floor of the loft, the wooden boards warped and spun. A dark hole appeared, but it didn’t open to the barn below.
“Well?” Laurel demanded, her eyes open. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Laurel had created the portal, but I was the one who had to break down the barrier to the otherworld. I thought back to when I was a Reaper, feeling out that innate connection between the two worlds. In my head, there was a wall separating the sense of this world from the sense of the other one. All I had to do was knock it down, but the task was easier said than done.
I drew on my aura and pretended that Alberta’s potion—the one that had heightened the sensus—was still in effect. At first, every rustle of leaves and whistle of wind distracted me. I closed off my hearing and focused on pulling the sensus to the front of my mind. Slowly, it began to work. Laurel glowed with the light of the living, as did I. The portal widened, and a spot of light appeared in the middle of the darkness. I forced all of my craft into the hole, using my aura to expand it bit by bit.
“I can’t hold it much longer!” Laurel cried, her arms shaking as she fought to keep her part of the portal open.
Sweat dripped down my forehead and into my eyes. Grunting, I shoved my magic further. “Just a little—bit—more.”
At last, the portal was large enough to jump through. Without hesitation, I leapt off the loft and into the hole. Laurel yelped in surprise as my arms scraped against the sides of the portal and sent green sparks into the air. A few of them alighted on the dry hay and caught fire. Laurel’s pupils blew wide with panic as thick smoke filled the barn.
“Go!” I told Laurel. My shoulders were stuck in the portal, and it had begun to narrow. Half my body was in the otherworld, and the other half was in the alternate reality of Yew Hollow. “I can handle this!”
But I wasn’t sure if I could. No matter how much I struggled, the portal kept shrinking, closing in on my neck. I was too preoccupied with the idea of suffocating in a different dimension than the one I lived in to focus my magic on keeping the portal open.
Laurel bared her teeth and yelled at the sky, a feral roar that echoed through the barn. She planted her feet and howled, summoning every bit of craft she had within her body. Her blue aura condensed into a basketball-sized orb right in the middle of her chest. Then, with another earsplitting vocalization, she let it go. The orb exploded in white-blue light, blinding me as she forced the portal open. I fell straight down, screaming as my stomach flew into my throat.
I landed on the gray pebbled beach I’d expected on my first trip down to the otherworld. Morgan had told me all about the different levels, how they manifested for her, and how to move through each one. It had been a few years since I’d heard the story—she wasn’t a fan of reliving it—but I remembered most of the details. The beach, at least, wasn’t as busy as the weird reception area that I’d had to take Paul through to meet his wife.
A few lost souls meandered about here and there, gray-faced and slumped over. Some of them wandered slowly along the shore, as if they knew how to move to the next level but weren’t finished contemplating their own death. Others looked desperately about and up. These people hadn’t yet accepted their new place of residence. They weren’t ready to move on either.
I, on the other h
and, knew exactly what to do and how to get there. I waded straight into the cold water, ignoring the chill and the stares of the other souls. Then, without hesitation, I dove into the gray depths.
It was a cinch compared to the wishing well. One second, I was taking laps through the murky water and the next, I’d arrived at the door to the otherworld’s bar. I walked straight up to the counter, where the cute bartender who’d recognized me before served drinks to her eternal customers.
“Hey.” I tapped the bar and beckoned her over. “I need a paradise shot, stat.”
The bartender snorted. “Nice try, newbie. I gotta give you props though. It’s ballsy of you to ask.”
I stared blankly at her. “Don’t you recognize me? I’ve been here before.”
She looked me up and down with a wry smile. “Nah, don’t try to trick me. If I knew you, I would’ve recognized you. This bar is full of regulars, and you aren’t one of them.”
“I’m a Reaper,” I pressed on. “I brought a guy named Paul down. You gave me a shot because I’m friends with Morgan Summers?”
“Who?”
“Ugh, forget it.” I drummed my fingertips on the bar. “Look, what’s the quickest way out of here? I’m looking for someone, and I’m kind of in a rush.”
She filled a shot glass with viscous dark liquid from an all-black bottle. “It’s not pretty and it tastes like crap, but that’s your only shot to move through here.”
“Pun intended?”
She wiped a droplet of the gooey booze from her palm and replaced the bottle under the bar. “You got a tip for me?”
“Yeah, here’s a tip.” I lifted the glass to eye level and made a face. “Market your products better.”
I tipped back the shot and gagged immediately. The bartender grimaced in sympathy.
“I don’t like to lie,” she said, her voice warping as the bar dissolved around me.
When I landed on bright green grass, I threw up. As soon as the black drink reappeared, I felt a hundred times better. I wiped sweat off my forehead. It came away in green dew drops, reflecting the colors of the dark forest around me. I remembered this part of Morgan’s story too. It appeared I was moving through the otherworld as Morgan had. I preferred it this way to facing my own fears. On this level, I had one job: to locate a supreme being.
“Hello!” I shouted into the depths of the forest as loud as I possibly could. My voice echoed through the trees and bounced back to me ten times over again. “I’m looking for a giant green dragon! Anyone know where I could find it?”
Through the quiet, the deafening bellow of a beast shook the leaves from the trees. I rolled my eyes at its theatrics.
“Yeah, you!” I yelled. “Come on, show yourself! I’ve got limited time on my hands!”
The trees shook to my left, and an enormous scaled beast with saber teeth as long as my forearms emerged from the darkness. It squared its chest and puffed smoke from its dark nostrils, staring down at me from its great height. I waved.
“Hey there,” I called up. “I need to move to the next level. I have it on good authority that you can get me there. Hell, you could probably get me all the way back home, couldn’t you?”
The beast tilted its head to peer at me with one eyeball. “You,” it said in a slight tone that did not match its herculean appearance, “are not afraid of me.”
“According to my research, I have no reason to be,” I told the dragon. I summoned my aura in the palm of my hand and held it out for it to see. “Check it out. Your scales are the same color as my aura. That’s gotta mean something, right?”
I tried not to flinch as the dragon lowered its snout all the way to my skin to examine the ball of magic. Sure, this massive creature hadn’t injured Morgan when she’d first passed through, but I didn’t exactly trust it not to pull a surprise stunt on me.
The dragon hummed and closed its eyes. If I wasn’t mistaken, he seemed to be enjoying the tickle of my magic against the scales around his nose. “I know you, little one.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” The dragon turned to its side, and his scales shimmered like the reflective surface of the wishing well. My face appeared there, but it was the sixteen-year-old version of myself, scared and alone. “This is you, is it not?”
“A long time ago,” I said. “And in a different world.”
“I see all worlds.” The dragon laid down and rested its head on its paws to examine me with fondness in its large eyes. “You are Morgan Summers’s daughter, and you have come to rescue her from this reality.”
Goosebumps rose all over my skin. “I’m not exactly her daughter, but—”
“You are,” the beast assured me. “To find her, you must answer a question of mine.”
“Yes, good. What is it?”
The beast winked. “What is it that you fear the most?”
“That’s it? Don’t you already know the answer to that one?”
“Ah,” the beast said and smirked. “The question is do you know the answer?”
My throat bobbed as I swallowed the acid that had risen from my stomach. “My biggest fear, from then” —I nodded at his side, where the picture of sixteen-year-old me still remained— “until now, has always been losing Morgan.”
“Very well,” said the beast. “I will help you forward, but be warned. The Morgan in this reality is not the one you know in yours. She has lingered in this questionable space for ten years. She is different. Faded.”
“Faded?”
The beast nodded, a grave look in its eyes. “Her existence is shallow. Do you still wish to find her? You may not like what you discover.”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Yes, I have to get her back. This reality and the one I’m from are counting on it.”
“As you wish.”
As in Morgan’s story, the creature’s pupil widened and met the ground. As it enlarged, it became a portal similar to the one Laurel and I had just created in the barn loft. I hesitated before stepping through.
“Can you help return us to the real world?” I asked the beast. “Once I find Morgan?”
The beast’s head looked positively terrifying, one side of it warped and stretched to accommodate the portal. “For the Summerses, I shall bend the rules.”
“Thank you.” I patted its snout. “I like you.”
The beast snorted, accidentally spewing smoke across my face, but it was clearly a gesture of embarrassment. “Go on, little one.”
I stepped into the darkness.
19
The next level of the otherworld did not lighten and reveal itself like the previous ones had. The darkness pressed against my eyes. I strained to widen them, but there was simply no light to let in. I was scared to move in any direction. This was the level I’d wished to skip entirely on this journey. It figured Morgan had ended up stuck here. Here, you heard voices.
I closed my eyes and waited with bated breath. My feet felt rooted to the floor. The first whisper came up behind me, slipping up my neck like a snake.
Lie down. Rot with the others.
Shivers ran up and down my spine. I flicked my head as if to dislodge a fly on my neck, but it did nothing to dissuade the voices.
You don’t belong anywhere.
You aren’t one of them.
Worthless. Fool. Outsider!
The whispers grew louder the long I stood there. I wrenched my foot out of its place and took one terrifying step into the darkness. Without sight, it was a thousand times more frightful to move forward. The whispers fell behind for a quick second then caught up to me again.
You’re nothing. Nothing!
Pretender. Usurper. Inferior!
“Shut up,” I growled deep in my throat. I stepped forward again, and a quick respite of silence reached my ears before the whispers resumed. I caught on. The more I moved, the less I heard them.
I broke into a sprint, zigzagging this way and that as if a massive alligator was chasing me through tall grass. I stumbled blindly
on, hands outstretched to feel for anything that might be in my way. The voices fell behind, fading unless I faltered to keep moving.
“Morgan!” I yelled over the whispers. “Are you in here? Morgan!”
A voice whispered right in my ear. I yelped and jolted forward, but this voice, unlike the others, did not fade when I moved.
“Hello?” it said.
Panting, I struggled to focus on the one familiar voice above the whispers. “Morgan? Is that you?”
“I—I think so.” She sounded weak and weary. “Do I know you?”
“Yes.” I groped in the darkness. “Yes, we’re family.”
Liar! Coward!
I gritted my teeth and kept feeling my way forward. “Morgan, I need you to reach out for me. I can help you.”
“Is this a trick?”
“No. I’m here to take you home.”
Hopeless!
Beyond the menacing whispers, I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps to my left. I turned toward it. “Reach out for me, Morgan.”
Death is upon you! Rot. Rot!
“I’m scared,” Morgan’s voice came from the darkness.
“I’m not. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
You have nothing! No one!
I took a deep breath. “Because I have you, Morgan. As long as you’re around, I’ll never be scared.”
With another step forward, I heard Morgan’s quick, shallow breaths beneath the level of my waist. I crouched down and crawled forward, feeling across the floor with my palms. At last, my fingers connected with someone’s shoe. When I inched my way up to the ankle, the person flinched and pulled away.
“It’s only me,” I said softly. “It’s Gwenlyn.”
My name triggered some unknown magic within me. Green light streamed from my eyes and illuminated the immediate space around me. Morgan was huddled in a ball on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head tucked in to make herself as small as possible.
No! Put out the light!
Stay! This is the darkness!
Lost Magic Page 23
