Bone Dry: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 1)

by Cady Vance

  The spirit said, “I cannot tell you the name of the man, but I can show you the place where this happened.”

  My fingernails dug into the carpet. “You mean you tricked me into agreeing to pay you, and you can’t even tell me who did it?”

  “I can show you the place through astral projection, but I cannot show you the man. It is impossible to show you a moving being.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t ask to see the place. That doesn’t help me at all.”

  “That is all I can give you,” it said.

  I almost argued again, but then thought better of it. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was better than nothing at all. “Fine. Show me.”

  I wasn’t sure what to expect because I’d never astral projected more than a few feet for fun. Mom hadn’t told me much about astral projecting either, saying it was the kind of thing only adult shamans should try. She’d said that about a lot of things.

  The spirit touched my knee, its hand—or whatever it was—an ice pack on my skin. I felt a sudden jerky tug, and then a sensation like I was floating and being ripped apart at the seams. A sudden burst of doubt about leaving my body behind surged through me, but then a calm blanketed my mind as I traveled through darkness.

  I could see vague, dark shapes and a blur of motion as we traveled along some sort of spatial current in the Borderland. I tried not to think about how dangerous this was, how I should have an anchor for this, too. If I got stuck here, I knew I couldn’t find my way back.

  And then came a sudden jolt as the floating part of me slid to a halt. Then, a blinding brightness until a fuzzy building hovered before my eyes.

  “This is the building.”

  I looked at it hard. I knew this was Boston by the skyline in the distance, but I didn’t recognize the neighborhood. I took in the building’s appearance as best I could although it was just a generic brownstone. I glanced at the number on the awning. Thirty-eight. Then glanced at the street sign at the corner. Belleview and Rockton.

  “I’m ready to go,” I said to the spirit.

  And then we were off again.

  I’m not sure I took a breath of air until I felt myself snap back into my body, which I momentarily saw sitting there, pale face, long wet hair, cheeks covered in dry tears.

  Weird.

  I jumped when I heard a hissing noise, and I glanced to the bedroom door to see Astral standing there, hair on end and teeth bared in a look I’d never seen on him before.

  “We are done,” the spirit said immediately. “I expect my payment before this night is over.”

  I dropped the summoning rune onto the candle flame and watched it burn.

  CHAPTER 21

  I wandered into the living room to check on Mom. She was still the same, alive and breathing, but empty. Astral was curled up on her lap, but his eyes were wide open, staring at my mom. It was like he knew she wasn’t okay, too. I took her hand in mine, fell onto the floor and peered up at her, wondering if there was some other way to pull her back. The shiny silver of her necklace reflected the low lamplight. The one with her key.

  I shot up. She’d never let me take the key from her. I’d tried several times, but she’d always whip her hand up and stop me, like it’d be the end of the world if I ever found out what was in her trunk.

  Now, when I could easily grab the key, I felt wrong about doing it. Like I was prying into something private and personal. I shook my head, reached out my fingers and grabbed it. I unclasped it from the chain and turned the cool metal over in my palm.

  The walk from the living room to my mom’s bedroom seemed to stretch out before me as I passed the rows of photos from around the world. Mom smiled in each one—alive, happy, exhilarated by her adventures. One from the time she went spelunking in South America to find ancient shaman artifacts. One from the time she’d gone on an Arctic cruise to follow up on rumors that spirits were attacking passing ships.

  The person in those photos was nothing like the one sitting in the living room now. Even if a miracle happened, and I was successful in getting her back, I wondered if things would ever truly be the same.

  I forced my feet to take me into her bedroom, but I refused to look at the blank, off-white walls where she used to hang her beads. Instead, I moved straight to the bed and reached underneath it. The heavy trunk groaned as I pulled it out from under the bed. It was identical to mine, but with its own unique spots from years of wear and tear. I slid in the key, turned the lock and held my breath when I heard the familiar tumble.

  When I pushed back the lid, all I found inside was an old book, similar to my rune book, with a piece of folded notepaper taped to the top. On the side facing up was my name scrawled in my mom’s handwriting.

  I stared hard, almost afraid to read what she’d left for me.

  To my Holly,

  You must be reading this because I’ve gotten sucked so far into the Borderland, I can’t respond to you anymore. I’ve been afraid things were getting this bad for months now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was hoping to find a way to stop it. And I never wanted you to have to worry about these kinds of things at your age. Honey, I’m so sorry.

  Anyway, I knew you’d come looking in this trunk. The book you’ve found is one of a set of three original rune manuscripts. This is the only copy of Book One. A colleague has Book Two and the third is unaccounted for. No one knows I have this copy, and you can’t tell anyone about it. It’s highly sought after. When you’re done reading this letter, put the book back inside, lock the trunk and don’t ever let anyone ever know anything about it. Once your dad gets his head on his shoulders again, he’ll take care of it. Okay?

  Of course, knowing you, you’ll want to know what is so important about this book. In order to satisfy your curiosity as quickly as possible, here it is: it’s a book of runes for more powerful shaman spells. Some spells in this book are known by the shaman community. Some are definitely not known. By anyone. And it must stay this way. Some of these spells are dangerous.

  Holly, there’s nothing I can do now to guide you and your insatiable curiosity, but I believe in you and that you’ll make the right decisions.

  Put the book away.

  I’ll try my hardest to get back to you. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just…be prepared I might not make it. I’m so sorry life has turned out this way, honey. Don’t ever forget I love you very, very much, and in some form or another, I’ll always be by your side.

  Mom

  I took several deep gulps of air to calm my breathing. I gripped the paper tight in my hands, my eyes roaming over the words again. I read the entire letter through three more times before I folded it and gently placed it on the floor next to me.

  I leaned over the trunk and stared at the book. Mom didn’t want me touching it, but she’d said she expected me to—in so many words—in her letter. Besides, a quick look wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like anyone knew it was in the house. I just had to take a peek at all these runes I’d never seen before, get a glimpse of all the magic I was missing out on.

  I lifted the book from the corner of the trunk and opened it, the leather spine creaking. The old papers fanned out in front of me. I turned the pages slowly, glancing at each rune. I didn’t recognize any of them, and the words underneath were in some language I didn’t know, but Mom had gone through and written the runes’ names in English. Seek, Speak, Listen and Smell were on the first few pages. I kept turning. Chain. Wave, Bind and Shadow.

  I didn’t know what any of these meant. On several pages, she’d jotted out a two or three word explanation of what the rune did, but left the specifics of how they should be cast in the original language. I guessed she didn’t want to make it easy for me or anyone else who stumbled across this to translate the spells.

  The shrilling sound of my phone made me jump.

  “Hello?” I asked before bothering to glance at the readout. My eyes were still glued to the runes.

  “I need you.” Jason’s usually lighthearted voic
e sounded shaky and rough. Blood rushed to my head when I heard a scream in the background.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “We can’t wait any longer, Holls. Whatever this thing is, it came out of my room and went after the rest of my family.”

  “Is everyone okay?” I asked in a whisper.

  “No, it attacked my youngest brother, and my parents took him to the hospital. They think it’s my fault. They think I did something to him, and when I tried to tell them what it really was…they grounded me. I have to stay here and watch my other brother and sister. I’m trying to talk everyone out of the house, but they think I’m being a jackass.”

  “Oh god.”

  “Megan called me a few minutes ago. Same thing is happening over there, and she got her family to go to the movies, but she’s freaking out about what will happen when the movie is over.”

  “This is bad.” I bit the inside of my cheek. Fear crawled all over my skin, making my arm hair stand on end.

  “Holls, please help me.”

  I’d never heard anyone sound so hopeless. I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if his family was left with a spirit loose in their house. How had it gotten out of his room?

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, trying to come up with a plan. Anthony and the Congress were going to stop the shamans, but it would obviously not be in time to help Megan or Jason. I closed my eyes. I have to help. Something heavy weighed on my shoulders, and my body curled into a defeated slump. I didn’t want to fight spirits right now, not with Mom like this, and I didn’t want to risk running into the shamans again. But I didn’t know what else to do. “Get the kids outside somehow. Maybe a game of Capture the Flag or something. I need to get Laura, and then I’ll come over, okay?” I rolled my head back and stared at the dark, round water spots on the ceiling. “Tell Megan I’ll take care of hers, too.”

  After I hung up, Astral jumped off the bed and meowed at me, blinking his eyes like he disapproved. I scratched his neck and turned my attention to Mom’s book. It was open to the page with the Shadow rune. Mom had written “To hide/conceal” in the margins.

  My back straightened. An idea sparked in my mind. It was crazy, but if the rune did what it sounded like it did, then it was genius. If I could just figure out how to cast the spell without accidentally throwing myself into the Borderland never to return.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. My stomach dropped fifteen stories when I saw it was already nine p.m. Where had the evening gone? I only had a few more hours of the day to summon Ananann to feed, and then I had to deal with those other spirits before someone else got killed.

  There was so much to do and so little time. Thinking about it too hard made my brain feel like I’d sucked down ten gallons of milkshake.

  Before I stood to go, I locked the trunk and slid it under the bed without the book inside. I clutched the new rune spells to my chest and shuffled back into the living room.

  Mom still sat there the same. Her chest kept rising and falling, a clump of hair sticking to her damp forehead. As I turned to call Laura, I wished I could hear the clicking of her knitting needles. I’d never realized how good it felt to hear that noise. It made me know she was alright—still here. It made me know she was trying to get back to me.

  ***

  I sat on my window ledge and stared at the neighbor’s yard, trying to decide who deserved the hand of fate I was about to deal. I had the screen open, my legs dangling outside, kicking the white panel of the house. I knew I was leaving scuff marks, but I didn’t care.

  I had to take a part of someone’s life.

  I tightened my ponytail and noticed my neighbor’s car wasn’t in his driveway. The house was dark, no lamps lighting up the windows. I froze and sat there breathless while I spun the knowledge of this through my head. He wasn’t home. And I barely knew him. Before I could talk myself out of it, I jumped down from the window and peeled toward his backyard, hopefully too fast for anyone to notice. The world was wet even though the dark, stormy sky had been replaced by an eerie golden moon. My sneakers squished on damp grass; trees shook water droplets onto my hair.

  When I reached the edge of his yard, my toes dug into the ground as I paused. Could I do this to him? To Jeff Cline? I didn’t know much about my neighbor. He was divorced and lived alone although I’d seen a variety of women over there every now and then. (I didn’t think he was hurting in the romance department.) He’d always smiled when he said hello, but that was the extent of our acquaintance. And the fact he lived next door made it really easy to get in and out before he got home, whenever that would be.

  I nodded once to myself and forced my legs to move again.

  But even as I picked the lock on his back door, I had to repeat to myself, For Mom. For Mom. For Mom.

  There are some lines I never thought I’d cross. When I was younger, I never thought I’d drink alcohol before I turned twenty-one. That line didn’t last long. I crossed it over a year ago, and now I thought it was a silly line. I also used to think I’d never steal. That I’d never be like my dad. I’d crossed the stealing line almost thirty times in the past year. Maybe conning people wasn’t technically stealing…yeah, maybe it was. And I did it with only a tinge of guilt and regret.

  Sometime a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I wasn’t going to beat myself up over taking a couple of Franklins from a bunch of rich kids.

  But it was still a line I never thought I’d cross. And now, here I was, crossing another. Summoning a spirit into someone’s home so it could feed. It’s funny how you can never fully understand the need to make a bad decision until you’re at the crossroad of right and wrong yourself. The world may be a kaleidoscope of color, but lately I’d started seeing everything in shades of grey.

  The lock clicked and the hinges squeaked as I stepped onto the tile floor. I’d never been inside my neighbor’s house before. The outside looked almost identical to ours. Small and quaint with chipped white paint and red trim. But, so far, the inside didn’t look anything like ours.

  The back door opened into a small kitchen, and I moved past a sink full of dirty dishes and a Formica table holding nothing more than an empty bowl and a coffee mug. I flicked on my tiny keychain flashlight and strode quickly down a short hallway, slim beams lighting up the way. I wanted to get this over with ASAP.

  The flashlight arced in front of me to show a bedroom just as messy as the kitchen with a floor littered with empty Chinese takeout boxes. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of two-day-old pizza and kicked aside an open box as I surveyed the room—no bigger than the one I had at home.

  Bachelors sure could be messy.

  I knelt on the floor, pushing back a faded flowery rug tossed over the hardwood. Those shamans had been stupid, and I'd learned from their mistakes. No scratching a rune where anyone could spot it.

  After working through the spell and summoning the spirit, I walked to the bedroom door without saying a word.

  Before I stepped into the hall, it whispered in its scratchy voice, “Twenty-four hours.”

  I turned slightly, refusing to look at the spirit. “Fine. Twenty-four hours. But that's all I'm giving you.”

  Twenty-four hours wasn’t enough time for the spirit to kill. Even though deaths were happening quicker than I’d thought possible, there was no way a spirit could kill within a day. That would give me enough time to get Mr. Cline out of the house again so I could banish the spirit. I’d trick him out of the house if I had to. I wasn’t going to take any chances and let more than a day pass with that spirit inside.

  I may have discovered that I’d do almost anything for my mom, even take a part of someone’s life. But I wasn’t about to let anyone die. There were some lines I just wouldn’t cross. And that was one of them.

  CHAPTER 22

  I turned another page in the new spell book, and a rat-a-tat sounded on the front door. I leapt up, slammed the book shut and ran to the door, my socked feet slidin
g on the hardwood in the hallway.

  When I reached the front door, I saw Laura’s familiar bob of red-streaked blond through the tiny peephole.

  “You okay?” she asked after I let her inside. She leaned to peer into the living room, nibbled on her lip and spun her nose ring. “Is your mom okay?”

  I pointed to one of the rickety wooden chairs by the kitchen table. “Sit.”

  She dropped into the chair and looked up expectantly, face full of concern. My breath caught in my throat, and I had to remind myself this was Laura. My best friend, Laura, who had been with me during lame school dances where we hung out on the side and watched all the “cool” kids cluster together. Who had kept me company when Mom rushed off to catch a plane to England, to Russia, to China. Laura had always been there, even when Dad disappeared. She was like family to me. And I had to tell her what was going on.

  I slid into the chair across from her, relieved to be sitting. Today had been epically long, and I felt drained of energy. Like the spirit had sucked part of my life instead of someone else’s.

  It was the magic. Taking its toll on me. I’d always felt kind of zapped and tired after banishing a spirit or doing small tricks like astral projecting myself a few inches in the air. What I’d done today had been powerful stuff, magic I wasn’t used to, and I was feeling the backfire from it.

  I rubbed my hands across my face and yanked my ponytail tighter. “Mom has gotten worse. She isn’t pulling herself out of the Borderland like she usually does. Not even for a little bit. She's just sleeping. I don't know what it means, but I think she’s stuck. Or at least part of her is.”

  Laura’s eyes went wide. “Did you try looking for her in the Borderland?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s like she’s fragmented. I see her aura around her body, but it’s in pieces or something.” My breath hitched, and I fought against the tightening in my throat. “It’s like only enough of her is left to stay alive. To keep her breathing.” I let out a shuddering breath and gripped the table, my fingernails digging into the wood.