Hall of Psychics

by Alicia Fabel

  Annessa eyed the massive thing. “You and me both.”

  “Bury your true shadow here,” instructed the gargoi. “I will make sure no one finds it until you are ready to reclaim it.”

  “The thing is, I don’t want to reclaim it,” Annessa admitted.

  “I will watch over it regardless.” The gargoi stood on the branch and stretched. Then, although the creature looked like it weighed a ton, it seemed to float as it leaped from branch to branch, disappearing into the trees.

  26

  Annessa returned to the edge of Cinnamon Grove and stood, observing her friends.

  Quinn sat under a tree by herself, a book opened in her lap, but she hadn’t turned the page in at least ten minutes. Ever since Ian had left, she’d been more withdrawn than usual, even though she couldn’t remember him. Axton watched her from afar. Anytime he tried to get close to her, she sent him away. Sam lay in a patch of white blossoms laughing at something Poppy must have said. Annessa noticed the corner of something folded sticking out of her pocket.

  The only thing Annessa could imagine she’d carry around like that was the letter from her grandmother. She wondered if Sam had opened it yet. After the bonfire later, she’d try to find a way to ask about it. And start figuring out how to warn her what was coming. Maybe if Annessa brought up Ian often enough, their memories would begin to resurface. What could it hurt? Worst that would happen is they’d freak out for a few minutes until they forgot again, right?

  A miniature gargoi slunk through the flowers after Annessa when she headed for Elion. It had been stalking her for days. She was also going to have to figure out what to do about those beasties now that they’d decided she was their designated snack provider. She dusted the dirt from her hands as she walked before anyone asked about it. When she plopped down beside Elion, he looped an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head.

  “I wondered where you were,” he said. “I was afraid Gia might have shot you.”

  “Gia likes me,” Annessa informed him. “I’m safe as long as I announce that it’s me and not you as soon as I get within shouting range.”

  “So archery is going well?” he asked.

  “If by well, you mean I didn’t hit a single target, and I smacked myself in the face with my bow, then yes, it is going fabulously.”

  “Hey weirdo, want me to show you how to play ball?” taunted Barret when he spotted her.

  Annessa jumped up. Elion leaned back onto his elbows to watch the show.

  “This time, you don’t stand a chance.” Barret and his rifts smirked in unison.

  Annessa smirked back. Boy had no idea. She whistled, and Zoom flew over the ground to her.

  Axton shook his head in exasperation. “My own wisp likes you more than me.”

  “Hey, that’s cheating,” Barret said.

  “You said using your arts is fair,” Annessa pointed out.

  “Yeah, but you’re a gazer not a bender.”

  “I’m also a wisp whisperer,” Annessa informed him. “It’s a thing now. What can I say? Even among weirdos, I’m a weirdo.”

  “You know what, it doesn’t matter. You still don’t have a shot.”

  “Oh really?” Annessa slipped out of the time flow, walked over to Barret, took the ball from his hands, and then slipped back into the flow.

  Barret blinked at the ball in her hands. “How’d you do that?”

  While he gawked, Annessa tossed the ball straight up. Zoom snagged its shadow, and a couple of seconds later the ball swished through the net.

  Barret’s cocky smile turned rueful. “I’m about to get schooled, aren’t I?”

  “Yup.”

  By Alicia Fabel

  Unraveled World

  Siphon Magic

  Tempest Song

  Oracle’s Luck

  Legend Academy

  Hall of Psychics

  New Revenant - coming soon!

  Acknowledgments

  This wouldn’t be possible without you, Aaron. Thank you for putting up with me, telling me to go write when I’m procrastinating, and bringing me stuff, like snacks or flowers, just to make me happy. And not potted flowers, because you know I’ll just kill those suckers and then feel bad about it.

  Hales, J-man, Em, and Aer, you guys make me a better person. Thanks for loving me through all of my mom fails. And for still giving me kisses when no one is looking. Those kisses and your smiles are the greatest rewards of my life.

  Laura (Wynter Designs), thank you for not dumping me when I told you what I wanted on my covers for this series. Or when I ask for “just one more” tweak. You are incredible and so talented.

  Chris (The Editing Hall), I’m not sure how I got so lucky to find such a great editor, but I’m thankful I did. Thank you for pushing me to dig deeper and venture out of my comfort zones. I’m so excited to see how I will continue to grow as a writer because of your encouragement.

  And as always, thank you to my fantastic readers. Your support and excitement for my stories has blown my mind. I don’t think I actually expected anyone to like the stories I work so hard to get from my head to the page. The fact that you do, and that you are out there waiting for more, is the most humbling and touching reality for me. Thank you!

  Now, on to the next story!… It’s time for Sam to take center stage ;o).

  Author Notes

  Wowzers! This was a tough story for me to write. It stretched me and made me uncomfortable at times. But in a good way. You see, I have atypical sensory processing. When I was a kid, everyone assumed I was just shy, and it sounded good to me so I internalized that label. Then as an adult, I realized it didn’t actually fit. So I attributed my dislike of social situations to “social anxiety.” The problem with that? I can stand up and address a room full of people and it doesn’t bother me. I mean, I’m not interested in pursuing motivational speaking or anything, but I’ll talk to whoever. And so I decided I must just be an anti-social introvert. Then came my children.

  I have four children, who are wonderful, amazing, and drive me absolutely batty. As I was figuring out how to navigate the learning and emotional challenges they faced, with professional guidance, I learned about sensory processing disorders. Which a couple of my kids have. And you can guess where they got it from. Ha! This opened a whole new level of self-understanding for me. I finally understood one of my greatest personal struggles. Basically, I cannot stand most social situations because it completely overwhelms my senses. The whole experience is exhausting and unpleasant.

  You’d think I could’ve figured this out sooner. Let’s see… I cannot listen to music when I run because it stresses me out of my mind. If I’m in pain, I cannot handle being touched. Heck, I can barely be touched on a good day. Rub a finger over my skin and by the third or fourth swipe, it feels like my skin is splitting open. Then there’s how I can’t look someone in the eyes when I talk to them. I get caught up analyzing their expressions and the movements of their mouth and don’t hear a word they say. Or if I’m the one talking, my thought train goes AWOL. Oh and I become a basket case around chaos—give me itineraries, agendas, and order! But once I understood why I have all these quirks, among others, I learned to be gentle with myself. And I developed tools to cope in healthy ways. Yay!

  So what does this have to do with writing a story focused on relationships? Well, to cope with the sensory overload before I understood what my malfunction was, I just learned to detach from my emotions. When others were roller coasters of highs and lows, I was pretty much just empty—a whole bunch of nothingness. Becoming a mom started changing for me, though. I actually learned to identify and navigate emotions as I taught my children. Now I even tear up during movies! And it kinda wigs me out when I do. Like, whoa!What is this wetness on my face? And why do I care that Timmy’s hamster just died?!? I don’t know, but I do. Empathy is a strange thing for someone who didn’t feel it during adolescence.

  Let me tell ya, this makes writing a well-rounded emotional story
an interesting process. And forget romance! It doesn’t even occur to me most of the time. If it weren’t for the patient example of my best friend, I’d be clueless. Plus, thank goodness for an amazing editor, who lets me know when I have to go back and dig deeper if my characters become cold or distant. She is a rockstar for pushing me to get better. Between my family and this writing thing I love, I’m blown away by the new insights into human nature and emotional tides I’ve gained. It’s been an incredible journey.

  So now you know what a weirdo I am. If you didn’t already suspect. But I’m a weirdo who truly believes that everyone can achieve their dreams, no matter what obstacles are in the way. It may take lots of work, persistence, failing, stretching beyond comfort zones, some tears, and accepting a hand of support along the way, but it is doable. So get out there and start doing, because living your dreams is worth all that and more.

  Siphon Magic

  Unraveled World - Book 1

  Vera stared wide-eyed up at the mountain lion, the ultimate screw you from Lady Luck. She hadn’t seen the beast perched above her as she scrambled up the tree in the darkness. Bloodied fingers latched onto the branch so she didn’t end up a nasty splatter of girl-bits on the ground below. Tremors rocked her body while she tried to look like a fierce adversary rather than a juicy flesh-bag of cat chow. The animal could probably see right through to her squishy, terrified core, but this was the only play Vera had. Running away was not an option. A different monster, one that should not exist, hunted in the forest down below. Mountain lions were pee-your-pants-worthy but a deranged centaur? Yeah, nope. Not happening.

  Even if there hadn’t been a centaur, Vera couldn’t have run from the cat. Turn your back on a mountain lion and it attacked. That fun fact was courtesy of Suzie, Vera’s old foster-mom. Suzie had taught Vera how to survive a mountain lion encounter after one of the big cats was found napping in a guy’s garage down the street. Still, if there hadn’t been a mythical monster to worry about, Vera probably would’ve run. She was not the kind of person who faced down mountain lions, no matter what the experts said. Lady Luck must be rolling on the floor somewhere. The old biddy had plagued Vera with a lifetime of misfortune for kicks and giggles. Someday, Vera was going to punch her in the throat. For now, she drew on the anger twisting in her gut, letting it fuel her bravado. No way would she give up on her alive-and-kicking status the night before her nineteenth birthday. Lady Luck is screwing with the wrong girl.

  It almost worked too.

  Who am I kidding?

  Vera had no idea how far away town was or which direction it was for that matter. If she managed to escape dismemberment by teeth and claws, and mutilation by hands and hooves, a wolf would probably eat her. Or she’d starve to death, and a pack of wolves would share her. It’s not like they were picky about freshness. A manic giggle bubbled up her throat at the thought. The centaur’s croon echoing through the trees obliterated it.

  “Come out, sweetness,” called the monster. “You can't hide from me. I can smell you.”

  A bead of sweat rolled down Vera’s brow and threatened to flood her eye. She ignored it. She couldn't have pried her fingers from the branch if she’d wanted to. Vera strained to hear a snapped twig or a trampled leaf or anything to tell her how close he was. But everything was drowned out by the pulsing in her ears and the frantic whoosh of her breaths.

  “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell.” His voice surrounded Vera. The hairs on her arms rose. “I hope you're a screamer.”

  It all fell silent, all the pounding and whooshing. Vera's vision blurred around the edges. The inky silhouettes of trees shrank farther away. She swayed like a raft anchored to shore by a fraying rope. Only the whisper of fur scraping against bark cut through the hypnotizing stillness. Vera sucked in a quiet breath and locked eyes with the mountain lion.

  Stay away from me, cat.

  The mountain lion's haunches quivered. It had inched closer while Vera had spaced out. Vera could see the moonlit meadow just beyond their tree reflected in its eyes. A wide-open meadow with all sorts of nowhere to hide from a half-man-half-horse-thing. That’s why Vera had climbed the tree in the first place. She wasn’t about to run out into the open. The cat whipped its head around to peer down into the darkness, teeth bared. Fur rose on the back of its neck. Vera’s stomach clenched. For a wild set of heartbeats, she did not move. Eventually, Vera’s gaze inched down toward the shadows.

  Vera never got a chance to see if the monster was there. The mountain lion took advantage of her distraction and lunged. The furry mass of hard muscles slammed into her. Crying out, Vera broke her hard-won silence, not that it mattered anymore. Together, they fell from their sanctuary in the trees. Branches tore at Vera's flailing arms. A sharp pain ripped through one leg, and then Vera hit the ground beneath the mountain lion. Air rushed from her lungs with a grunt. Blood pooled beneath Vera’s head where it had struck a rock embedded in the soil of the meadow. To be fair, the fall afforded one lucky mercy: It knocked Vera unconscious for her imminent discovery.

  ***

  Kale’s bare toes grew cold as he stood eyeing the crumpled body of a girl at the edge of his meadow. It was not improving his current mood at all. Mimi’s frantic arrival through the barrier had ripped Kale from sleep. Something he chronically lacked as it was. He hadn’t slowed to pull on boots, just charged to his friend’s aid. An exceptionally pain-in-the-neck feline friend who now crouched over the broken human. Mimi was protecting the girl from him.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Kale was ready to strangle the mountain lion.

  Mimi’s defiant expression wavered, but she held her ground. Kale looked past her toward the boundary forest where the gates to all the realms of the world circled the meadow, constantly moving and rearranging. He couldn’t see them, but he could sense them. Like drafty chinks in his cabin walls. Each realm had a unique combination of scents, which floated on the air when its gate opened. Sienna soil, ash, lotus oil, farmland, salty sea, dung, jasmine, and wood-smoke lingered in the air, but the metallic odor of the human realm, called Earth, overpowered the rest since that was the last world-gate opened. With his mind, Kale felt along the magic that made up the meadow until he found the tendrils which joined the Earth gate to the meadow. Layers of magic threads wrapped securely around the gate, binding it closed. The seals had fallen firmly back into place as soon as Mimi had slammed the gate behind her. Earth’s world-gate was the only one sealed shut. Not even a hint of a breeze came from the human realm now. All those humans were safely locked away. Except for this girl.

  “Why in the name of the Infernal Ones, did you bring one back with you?” Kale’s voice was scary-calm.

  Mimi blanched.

  Kale sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was partly his fault. While Mimi was able to hold the gate open from the other side, just enough to slip back through it when she was ready to return, Kale had to unseal it for her. Stars blast it. He knew the risks, but he did it anyway. For Mimi, he would do it again. The magic-less human realm was the only place where Mimi found some relief from the swirling magics that existed in every other corner of the world and which battered her mind endlessly.

  “She didn’t come willingly, did she?” Kale asked Mimi, knowing it was the only explanation for why his friend would stand against him for a human.

  Mimi nudged the girl gently with her nose then looked back at Kale, her slitted eyes pleading for mercy for the human whose presence in the meadow was forbidden. The moment the girl passed through the gate, her life was forfeit. Mimi knew it. And yet, here they were, Mimi silently begging Kale to spare the girl’s life, and Kale not doing any killing. The whole situation was preposterous, and Kale was about to make it worse.

  “Maybe we can put her back where she belongs before she comes to,” he said.

  Mimi narrowed her eyes suspiciously. It was understandable. Kale was not known for his mercy. In fact, if it weren’t for Mimi worming her way into his affections, alon
g with her over-sized heart, Kale never would have considered anything other than a quick execution. Mimi was probably wondering if it was a trick. In the end, though, Mimi had no choice but to trust Kale or let the girl die. She moved aside to give him access. Kale squatted and brushed blood-matted hair away from the girl’s face and neck.

  “At least now we know the meadow doesn’t discriminate when it comes to healing a human—she’s not dying,” Kale observed.

  Kale wasn’t sure that was a good thing, but he was glad to see some of the tension melt from Mimi’s face. He considered the girl’s awkward position, tilting his head to mimic the unnatural angle of her nearly healed neck.

  “You probably should’ve tipped it back in place before it healed like that.” Kale chuckled darkly. “Think the other humans will notice?”

  Mimi yowled and head-butted him.

  “I can fix it, but you’re not going to like it,” Kale warned.

  Kale wrapped one scarred hand around the girl’s throat, placed the other on the crown of her head, and with a quick twist, snapped the girl’s neck for the second time that night. Her head flopped to the side. The mountain lion screamed like a woman possessed.

  “Enough, Mimi! I told you I was going fix her. See?” Kale indicated the girl’s neck. “Still attached, which means she’ll live unless someone hears you and comes to see what’s going on. If they do, I will toss her out of here and let her live or die at the mercy of her own realm. Like I should have done already.”

  Want me to do it for you? offered Ferrox, returning home from wherever he'd been all night.