My heart clenched. Words failed me, and I nodded instead of speaking. The nod brought a smile to his face as he lifted my hand to his lips.
“See you soon.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Instead of going directly inside, I settled down in the swing on the back porch. My eyes drifted closed as I thought of the day I'd just had. My feelings for Isaiah crept forward, taking over my other thoughts. They scared me a little. I'd been attracted to him before I even knew what he “really” looked like.
My wandering thoughts got interrupted by tiny scratches on the back of my hand, followed by rapid-fire chattering. The two little chipmunks that I'd been seeing around were back, probably for more crackers. They took turns chattering and running in circles, down off the table onto the wooden porch and back again.
“Hey guys. Are you hungry again?” I realized I had forgotten to ask Isaiah if there was a way I could identify shifters from normal woodland creatures.
More chattering and running amok. Unable to speak chipmunk, I stood up, intending to get them some crackers, when they both ran off the porch and then looked back, as if to see whether I would follow them. Shrugging, I began to go after them when my mom poked her head out the back door.
“What are you doing out here?”
Pointing in the direction of my little friends, I answered her. “I'll be right back. They want me to follow them.”
“Seriously, Leah? You think you should follow rodents out into the forest after dark? Where is your brain?”
A glance at the sky brought me to my senses. It was indeed close to complete darkness. More time must have passed while I daydreamed than I had realized. Had I dozed off?
“You're right. I wasn't thinking.”
Unhappy chatter came from the pair as they raced the rest of the way across the clearing and up a nearby tree. Their little clicks and squeaks followed me into the house, igniting my curiosity about where they wanted me to go and what they could possibly want to show me.
My stomach growled at the smell of the food simmering in the kitchen. Yes, we'd eaten the entire batch of cookies, but that did not make a meal. Since I planned to work on my magic, I needed more substantial nutrition to keep me going. Thankfully, Mom had been in a cooking mood and the scent of chicken parmigiana wafted through the air.
She brushed by me to remove the garlic knots from the oven. She made them from scratch and I could eat a dozen at a time they were so good. While she served plates, I grabbed silverware, napkins and drinks. We sat down to eat in companionable silence. At first.
Mom cleared her throat. “So, what did you do all day?”
Indecision flooded me. My desire to be honest with her warred with my instinct to avoid conflict. Something told me she wouldn't be thrilled with my answer if I told her everything that had gone on while I'd been away from the house.
I tried to deflect the question. “Not much. What did you do?”
“Nice try, Leah.”
Failure on the first attempt. Deciding to go on the offensive, I followed with another question of my own. “Would you believe me if I told you? Or would you make fun of me and act like I'm losing my marbles?”
“Le-ah...” She drew out the syllables of my name in exasperation.
“Mom. You can't blame me for asking. You keep denying the existence of magic, in spite of seeing me do it with your own eyes. You refuse to even open your mind and accept the possibility that things outside our realm of experience do exist. On top of that you are kind of a brat when I do talk about it.”
“I just think you are a little old to be indulging in such fantasies. That's all.”
My irritation got the better of me and I stood, my appetite deserting me. Carrying my plate to the sink, I bit out my response. “Don't continue to ask me about my activities until you are willing to listen without judgment. I know you aren't blind or stupid. So, that leaves one other scenario. What are you afraid of?”
Ignoring her pleas to stay and talk, I stalked out through the doorway and upstairs to the door at the end of the hall, slamming it behind me as I made my way back into the attic. It still contained so many books that I hadn't even cracked open yet. There could be anything in the stacks of unopened boxes. The wealth of knowledge contained there beckoned me. The answers I needed had to be hiding up there somewhere, just waiting to be found.
Choosing one of the older volumes, I began reading. It contained notes about creating spells, not just using ones that had been passed down by the generations before. From my understanding, it took great power to create an incantation that would harness the power needed for others to be able to use it after it had been perfected. Some of them appeared to do things I never believed possible.
The passage that caught my attention first related to borrowing power from the world around you. The spidery handwriting spoke of ley lines, and the power contained within mother Earth herself. Instructions on finding those sources of power and tapping into them covered the page. It took only moments for me to learn the feeling of reaching out and finding the power around me.
The author ended the passage with warnings not to overdo it. Each witch had the capability to borrow the power, but individuals had very different capacities for storing and using it. Trying to go above and beyond your capacity for magic would hurt you rather than help you.
The deterrent language caused me to shrug. How could I possibly know my limitations if I didn't attempt to go beyond them, at least a little bit? With a reasonably cautious mindset, I reached out to the world around, asking politely to borrow the power I wished to make use of. The gentle flow filled me like a chalice, giving me more oomph than I had learned to use from my own body.
Fatigue began to set in as I alternated reading about magic and the history of the sanctuary and practicing the spells I ran across in the books. Frustrated at my inability to master one of the skills I had chosen, I held my breath, pulling as much power to myself as I could muster. Instead of the result I'd expected, a bright light flashed before me, the accompanying boom rattling my senses.
Opening my eyes, I found myself far from the attic, seemingly alone in a land shrouded in mist and fog. Towering trees loomed over me, making me wonder if I found myself somewhere within the boundaries of the sanctuary. Instead of being scared, however, I felt peaceful. Wherever I had landed, the evil had not yet reached that place.
But where was I, and how the hell had I gotten myself here? I hadn't been trying to leave the attic. The spell hadn't been one of transportation, although I'd seen one within the pages. Soft, raspy whispers reached my ears. At first, I couldn't make out the words, just the murmuring voice. The closer it came, the clearer the words became.
“Hello?” Nobody appeared to be approaching, yet I felt clearly that I was no longer alone.
“You must find them...”
Spinning in a slow circle, I looked for the source of the voice. “Find what?”
“Find the pages. They hold the key.”
“The journal pages? Where are they?” As I asked the question I moved to the edge of the clearing, trying to explore further, but I couldn't leave the immediate area. The mist acted as a barrier.
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
Other voices began to chime in. Unidentifiable, disembodied whispers chimed in from every direction.
“Where are they? Where should I look? I don't know where to start!”
“You know how to find them. You must hurry. Time is running out. Find the pages.”
“How do I get back? I can't find anything if I'm stuck here with no way home.”
The voices faded away, leaving me alone in the silence. Walking the perimeter of the clearing enforced my assumption that I couldn't leave the small space I found myself in. Aggravation swamped me. I attempted to slam my palm against the barrier, but my hand went right through. It could keep me from walking through, but did not have a physical presence I could reach out
and touch.
Eyes closing, I sank to the floor of the forest. I needed to focus. Holding the picture of the attic in my mind, I attempted to will myself back there. While I'd seen the transportation spell in the book, I'd considered it outside my current abilities and hadn't attempted it. I'd read over the notes, though, and knew you had to keep your destination firmly in mind.
Sometime later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Keep your eyes closed.”
Startled, I struggled to obey. The pressure comforted me, rather than alarming me, and I managed to not look.
“Curses are nothing more than a tight knot. Some of them are more complicated than others, but all of them follow the same construct. As you unravel the knots, you will begin to remove the power from the curse. Untie the knots...” The voice trailed off.
I began to shake, feeling as if my head might explode at any minute.
“Leah! Leah!” More shaking. “Leah, can you hear me, honey?”
“Argh.” A groan was all I could manage at first. “Stop yelling at me.”
“Oh my, thank the goddess.”
With concerted effort, I managed to pry my eyelids open. My mom's tear-stained face swam into focus.
“Mom? Why are you crying?” Struggling, I tried to sit up.
“Wait just a minute, sweetie. Don't try to get up yet.”
“I'm okay.” I ignored her, paying for it with the dizziness that swamped me as I made it upright. “What happened?”
Sticky wetness flowed down onto my upper lip. Before even touching my face, I knew that my efforts to increase the amount of magic I could use had caused a bloody nose once more. Mom pushed the already crimson-covered dish towel at my face.
“What were you doing up here? There was a large bang, and I came running up here to find you laying on the floor. Your nose just kept bleeding and no matter what, I couldn't rouse you. Then you started mumbling, so I knew you hadn't died, but I couldn't get you to wake up. I thought I was going to lose you. I almost went down to call an ambulance.”
“Ah, Mom, I'm sorry. I think I might have been attempting to operate above my pay grade. I'm fine. I'll be okay, I promise.”
“You've got to stop this! You are going to kill yourself.”
“Mom, I think while I was unconscious Aunt Aimee came to me. She was talking to me and telling me to find her journal pages.”
“Aimee is dead. She was not here to talk to you. You must have been dreaming. You hit your head hard enough when you fell to addle your brain cells.”
“Ugh. Okay. I'm sorry I scared you. I think I need to get downstairs and get some sleep. What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
“Midnight? How long was I out?”
“About thirty minutes.”
I'd been practicing before passing out for much longer than I had expected. I'd also been up for almost twenty hours straight. My body needed to recharge. Desperately.
With Mom's help, I managed to get to my feet. Leaving the books right where they lay, we headed down the steep staircase. I'd be back to get the pile once I got some sleep, knowing they held more information that I needed.
Standing before the bathroom mirror as I washed the evidence of my nose bleed down the sink, I stared at my reflection. On top of flecks of dried blood, deep purple bags had formed beneath my eyes. My lips, usually so rosy, faded to a pale apricot. They looked dry and cracked. Even my eyes were dull and lifeless. A few hours of good solid sleep would hopefully restore my vigor.
If it didn't, I didn't know how I would manage to continue attempting to remove the curse. It would take every ounce of strength I could muster to be successful. Continuing to drive myself to this level of weakness would leave me vulnerable, both unable to protect myself and inadequately prepared to untie the knots in the curse and restore the pack's memories and abilities to shift.
My mind replayed the scene in in the vision, or whatever it had been. Forest was forest and trees were trees, so I didn't attempt to identify a particular clearing. What I did want to know is whether it had truly been my aunt who came to me while I was there. Nobody else that I knew of would have much of an interest in whether or not I found the missing journal pages, and I didn't think there would be anyone else who even knew what might be on them.
But if it had been her, then why did I need to keep my eyes closed when she touched my shoulder? Why couldn't I see her just one last time?
If I was being honest with myself, the experience seemed to give me more questions than answers. That, however, was only true if I focused on the who and not the what. The piece of information about the curse would hopefully lead me to being able to untangle it.
Maybe more would come to me as I slept.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
White mist swirled about, thicker than before. It deadened any sounds that might have otherwise reached my ears. Unlike my previous visit to the place I christened Peace, this moment brought me nothing but feelings of impending doom. The crescent mark ached and began to glow, making me wary.
Torn between staying silent and waiting to see what happened, or calling out and risking drawing adverse attention, I crept toward the edge of the clearing. My feet, clad only in socks, made no sound. Wondering if the barrier would hinder me from leaving as before, I reached out to touch the mist. The icy feel of it numbed the skin on my fingers, turning the nail beds blue. Another change.
Curling my fingers inward, I blew my warm breath on them, trying to reverse the effects of instant frostbite. The temperature in the clearing began to drop. My toes, with no shoes to protect them, began to ache.
Suddenly, I heard a voice calling my name. A familiar voice. My ears strained to hear the words that followed. What was Isaiah doing here? I prayed he wasn't in danger, but this place didn't seem like a safe one for a stroll. Was he dreaming too? Or had I somehow sucked him into one of mine?
Deciding to take the risk of drawing unwanted attention, I yelled for him. If he got lost out in the frozen mist, he wouldn't survive for very long. My voice echoed back to me, as if bouncing off the vapor. He couldn't hear me because the invisible barrier affected sound as well.
A shadowy figure became visible through the mist. I screamed his name, but he couldn't hear me, even as he walked right up to the edge of the clearing. To him, the clearing didn't exist. He just kept wandering through the trees, calling my name. The second he walked close enough to come in contact with the perimeter of my temporary cell, I slipped from the dream, waking in a cold sweat in my bed.
My pajamas clung to me like a second skin for what seemed like the hundredth time since I came to the sanctuary. Hair that had escaped the braid was plastered to my neck and forehead. The bedside clock tried insisting that only three minutes had passed since the last time I laid eyes on it. Bullshit. I'd been in that clearing far longer than that.
Limping down the hall to the bathroom, thanks to my aching feet, I slipped into a warm shower in an attempt to defrost myself from the time spent in the dream mist. There would be no sleep for me if I continued to shiver and shake. Leaning my head against the wall, I pondered whether I should reach out to Isaiah through our mental link. My fear was that I'd wake him, and his appearance in my dream had been just that, part of the dream.
Back in my room, I threw on some sweats, undecided about whether to try and sleep again just yet. Settling on a compromise, I crawled under the covers and propped myself up with pillows and one of the books from the attic. Before I got the chance to open it, the crescent mark began to ache, giving off a faint glow. The evil spirit was active.
Feeling a pull stronger than anything I'd experienced so far, I parted the curtains to look out the window. In the distance, approximately in the area of the ruins, a dark cloud formed, growing as I watched. Bolts of lightning crackled among the clouds, sizzling blue instead of the normal yellowish-white.
Shoving my feet into tennis shoes and grabbing a jacket to protect against the chilly night air, I made my way down the stairs and
out the back door. The night air crackled with a strange electricity. The hair on my arms stood up under the layers of cotton and my skin crawled. Despite the darkness of the night, my feet found their way along the trail with very few missteps, surprising considering the amount of things I tripped over on a daily basis.
When I reached the edge of the ruins, I paused. Instinctively knowing that the spirit would have far more power once I crossed into its territory, I gathered my strength. Using the lesson from the book, I pulled power from the forest around me, hoping to be prepared for whatever I found on the other side of the stacked stone wall.
“Something strange is going on at the temple...” Throwing a thought to the wind, and hoping Isaiah would hear me, I prepared to make my way inside the building, pausing one more time, thinking I should wait for back up.
From behind me, a vicious growl sounded. I spun on my heel, losing my balance and crashing to the ground. A sleek black wolf crouched less than ten feet from me, canines bared. Attempting to use the same communication method I had established with Isaiah proved futile. Either this particular wolf couldn't hear me, or didn't care.
Inch by inch I returned to a standing position, wracking my brain for a spell that would send the wolf away but not hurt it. It crawled toward me another three feet, its belly almost touching the ground. It hadn't sounded so mean, I would have said it was scared.
“I don't want to hurt you. Go on, get. Shoo.”
My feeble attempts failed. Advancing once more, it now stood within striking distance. Once out of the shadows, I could see its body trembling as it prepared to pounce. Figuring that getting inside the temple might be safer than out here trying to avoid being eaten, I half turned to climb over the disintegrating wall.
Taking my eyes off my foe, even for a second, proved disastrous. In the instant I tried to see where I could put my foot on the other side, the beast sprang. Its sharp teeth latched onto my forearm, sending pain shooting up the limb. Instinct kicked in as I slammed my other palm against the side of its head, sending whatever magic I had into the skull.
Crescent Marked: StarHaven Sanctuary Book One Page 10
