Praxis Novellas, Mosaic Chronicles Book Two
Page 8
Andrea Pearson
Summary: Lizzie doesn't know the old whistle she found in a deserted trapper's cabin is possessed. She blows on it, accidentally calling back the spirit of a dead goddess consumed by the desire to snare the person who called her.
When the goddess arrives in the form of a statue, the stillness of Lizzie's mountain retreat is destroyed.
The Angel Dedication
To Lon Pearson
For his support, help, and friendship
The Angel
Lizzie stepped out of the car and looked up in shock at the statue that “welcomed” her to the Smith family summer cabin. It was beautiful, but disturbing. The expression on the woman’s face, the position—everything about her showed possessiveness. She reached toward the cabin, palm up, as if to beckon, but her smile, although alluring, made it obvious she wouldn’t take rejection lightly.
Steph, the cabin owner’s wife, paused next to Lizzie. “Let’s grab your bags and I’ll show you where you’ll be stay—” She stopped, seeming to notice that Lizzie wasn’t paying attention. “Dorothy. You there?”
Lizzie started at the sound of her real name and turned to the woman. “Call me Lizzie, please.” She hesitated. “This statue . . .”
Steph smiled. “Is interesting, isn’t it?”
Lizzie nodded.
“She was named Helen and was a powerful Arete from a very long time ago. The story says that Helen fell in love with a non-magical man who wouldn’t have her, no matter how much she begged. They say she’s still waiting for him to call for her. My husband found the statue near Crescent Bay and put it here to guard the house—he calls it our angel.” Steph sighed. “Wish he’d just get rid of the dang thing. It gives me the creeps.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“All right, enough gawking. Let’s go.”
Lizzie pulled her bag from the back of Steph’s Lexus. When she’d moved to Seattle to attend Katon University, she’d learned that most Arete students came from wealthy families. At least, those who attended Katon, anyway. So she didn’t blink an eye at the nice car, but a Lexus in her small Texas hometown would’ve caused quite a disturbance. For one thing, it wasn’t a beat-up truck.
She hefted her bag to her shoulder and started to follow Steph, but stumbled, looking up at the “cabin” where she’d be staying for the next week. It looked more like a Waldorf Astoria ski lodge than anything—endless windows and corners and rooms and what looked like three or even four levels. Was it really a one-family summer cabin or had she heard wrong?
She couldn’t have heard wrong. Her friend had been very clear that his parents—and his parents only—owned it. Either way, she looked forward to relaxing after the stressful exams she’d just passed.
Lizzie had to jog to catch up with Steph, who led her past the two-story front doors and through a massive entryway lined with marble pillars. There was a rustic feel to the place—even though it was made with elaborate and expensive materials. The dark wood circular staircases on either side of the entry and the wooden flooring were striking in comparison to the marble. Rust-red decorations adorned the area, and heavy picture frames hung on the walls.
Lizzie followed Steph up the stairs to the left and down a hall to another set of stairs. Lush carpet cushioned her steps, replacing the wood flooring of before. The third-floor hall was lined with windows, and Lizzie looked out them in awe at the forest of Olympic National Park as she walked.
Finally, they reached the place where she would be staying. She stopped between the French doors that opened into the massive bedroom which was complete with two queen-sized beds, a coffered ceiling, and chandeliers. Decorative candles and fabric graced the dressers. The floor was rustic wood, scuffed up to look old. Soft-colored plush rugs were scattered throughout. And like the hallway, one wall was lined with windows. The pines parted enough to give an impressive view of Lake Crescent.
“Wow,” Lizzie mouthed. She took a step inside and squealed, turning back to Steph. “This is amazing!” She dashed to the bed nearest the window, dropped her stuff on it, then spun around. “Thank you so, so much for letting me stay here!”
Steph smiled at Lizzie’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure you need the break. Katon University is more stressful than other Arete universities.”
Lizzie nodded. Being a magical person, an Arete, was harder than regular people could know. On top of everything else those who attended college had to learn, Aretes had to perfect their magic and learn the science behind it.
Steph leaned against the door frame. “We’re going for a hike after we have a snack. Would you like to come?”
“Sure!”
“Great. Sarah, your maid, will show you to the kitchen. Make yourself at home.” She pulled the doors shut behind her.
“I’ve got a maid?” Lizzie whispered to herself. “Whoa.” Weren’t servants from the 1800s? Then she pushed her thoughts away, deciding to explore.
The windows were to the left of the doors and a sitting area was to the right, with the beds in the middle. Another set of French doors led from the sitting area into the biggest bathroom Lizzie had ever seen. Everything was made of marble—the floors, counters, and even the jetted tub. Gold accents adorned the place, and more elaborate candles dotted the room. And of course, there was a chandelier.
Lizzie returned to the main room and plopped on her bed, staring out the window. She’d text her best friend, Nicole, later, but right then, the only thing she wanted was to soak in the elegance she’d be living in for a whole week.
***
Lizzie jumped when someone knocked. A slender girl, several inches taller than Lizzie’s five-foot-three frame, smiled when Lizzie opened to her.
“My name is Sarah. I’ll be taking care of you and keeping your room tidy this week. Would you like me to show you the way to the kitchen?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Lizzie paused, looking down at what she wore—simple jeans and a bright pink top that clashed with her red hair. The drive from Seattle to Lake Crescent—including the ferry—had taken about three hours, so she hadn’t worn her nicest clothes. At least she was wearing good shoes for hiking. “Am I dressed okay?”
Sarah laughed. “Of course—John and Steph are hardly picky when it comes to things like that.”
Lizzie was surprised to hear that—their son, Nate, always said they were uptight. “Okay. Let’s go!”
It took five minutes to walk to the kitchen. Lizzie was positive she’d never find her way back. Sarah chattered about several things—how everyone missed Nate, the fourth child in the family who was studying at Katon University; how she hadn’t known until the last second that she’d be able to come to work at the summer cabin; about her little kid; and a whole bunch of other things—Lizzie couldn’t keep up with them.
Once seated at a table in the kitchen and after the blessing on the food had been given, Steph put her hand on Lizzie’s arm.
“We’re going up to Pyramid Mountain Trail. It gives an excellent view of the lake, but it’s a long hike. Are you fine with that? If not, we can do a different one.”
Lizzie smiled. Her mother would not agree with such an activity for a dancer. “Oh, yeah, I love hiking.”
And Lizzie hated dancing.
“Okay. Later this week we’ll also be going fishing, canoeing, and boating, if possible. I’d like to hike more than once, but we’ll see how today goes first.”
A few minutes later, Lizzie and members of Steph’s family who’d arrived earlier met out front, where Steph divided them into the cars that would take them to the trail head.
Even though she always stayed at the front when hiking with a group, Lizzie now found herself drifting to the back, enjoying the beautiful surroundings. Washington had so much more to offer than Texas when it came to the color green.
Lizzie paused while staring into the forest to the left. She thought she’d just seen a structure of some sort. She backed up on the trail until her eyes found it again. It looked like a cabin—a real one, not like
the Smith’s mansion. She took a couple of steps closer, standing on the edge of the trail.
The cabin was moss covered and incredibly old. The wood looked to have been almost destroyed by the frequent moisture of the area. And it was so covered with undergrowth, a person wouldn’t see it if they weren’t looking directly at it.
Lizzie bit her lip, glancing up the trail to where she could see the others disappearing around a bend. They wouldn’t notice if she took a brief detour to explore, and she was a good hiker. She’d have no problem catching up.
She started toward the cabin, her heart somersaulting in her chest. If there’d been a path, it had disappeared years ago. What sunlight there was diminished as soon as she entered the forest. Eerie light cast shadows all around her, making her skin tingle. Or maybe it wasn’t the shadows. Maybe it was a magical awareness—something drawing her to the cabin. She couldn’t really tell. She wasn’t as adept at sensing magical pulses as Austin and Nicole, her good friends.
Lizzie climbed over slippery logs and boulders, nearly falling several times. Like the cabin, everything on the ground was covered in moss.
Her mom would kill her if she knew what Lizzie was doing. “Dancers protect their bodies from harm. You shouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize your career.”
Lizzie snorted. What her mom meant was, “You shouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize my dreams of having a daughter with a dancing career.”
Whatever.
A small creek separated her from the cabin and she crossed it easily, coming to a stop just outside the door. If at all possible, the hairs on her neck stood up even more. There was something different about the place, something that called to her.
The cabin hadn’t been touched in a long time. Lizzie circled it, trying to get a better understanding of it before entering.
Wait. Did she really plan to go in? She flipped her curls off her shoulder. No, of course not. She just wanted to see the place up close.
And she was about to leave when she felt a slight tug on her magic. She hesitated in surprise—it had been a while since something like that happened. Was there a magical thing or person inside, waiting to be discovered?
The desire to go in washed over her. She couldn’t tell where it originated, but what harm could come of it? She pushed all caution behind her as she shoved the door open.
Lizzie hesitated in the frame, unable to distinguish anything. It was too dark to see even outlines. The moist air that greeted her smelled old, but not disgustingly so—it was like leather and licorice, which were some of her favorite scents.
The faint magical pulse drifted over her again.
“Hello?”
No answer. She sensed a presence, but couldn’t tell from what source—alive or inanimate. Austin or Nicole would’ve been able to tell the difference and she scowled, wishing she were that good. Then she remembered something Austin taught her, and using her magic, she pushed out, trying to elicit a response.
Nothing happened.
According to Austin, this meant the magical source wasn’t alive, or it was a person very good at hiding.
She took a deep breath, waiting just a moment longer. It couldn’t be a person—no one was that patient. And either way, she’d be safe to use magic to make a fire so she could see. But how to create it?
She could use her dancing. That was, after all, the reason she’d studied ballet and ballroom and jazz for so long. Dancing was supposed to help her harness her powers.
But there wasn’t a lot of room, and she hated dancing anyway. So she did what always worked when she didn’t want to dance. She mimed holding a pencil in her right hand and held her left like it was paper, palm up. Using her forefinger and thumb, she pretended to draw a small fire on her skin, concentrating on creating a physical spark.
A tiny flame erupted on her palm and she lowered her hand, allowing her eyes to adjust. Naturally, the blaze didn’t burn and only required a little power to keep it going.
She took a step inside, hand in front of her, peering around. The wood floor was soft and springy, and in places, rotted away. Animal traps lined the walls, and fur pellets were stacked everywhere.
“A trapper’s cabin,” Lizzie said to herself.
The room had two cots, a wood stove, a small table with two chairs, and a shelf along one wall that was covered in knickknacks. Lizzie approached it, exploring the items with her right hand while her left radiated light. An old comb with gunk on it—yuck. Some used candles. A couple of figurines. A candle holder. Old, moldy newspaper she avoided touching.
A slight breeze entered the cabin, lifting her curls off her shoulders. She turned, expecting to see the door moving. Instead, the wind swirled around her, and she watched as some damp papers were blown off the table, revealing a little box.
She crossed the room and lifted the container. It was locked, but the bolt was rusted and broke when she pried at the tiny padlock.
The magical pulse washed over her again, enticing, begging her to finish opening the box when she hesitated. She lifted the lid, not sure what to expect. Disappointment flooded over her at what was inside.
Just an old-fashioned whistle—the size and shape of her index finger.
Lizzie shrugged. “Too bad. You could’ve been gold coins or something cool like that.” Rather than returning the whistle to the box, though, she pocketed it and turned to leave the cabin.
Air whisked past her, moist, smelling like the ocean, and she thought she heard a sigh full of longing. Heartfelt. Forlorn.
Lizzie paused for a moment. It was like a presence had come and gone while she stood there. Like that presence was grateful she’d taken the whistle. She said, “You’re welcome.”
Releasing the magic of her fire, she let it fizzle out and left the cabin.
“Lizzie? Lizzie!”
“I’m here.” Lizzie rushed back to the trail and nearly ran into Steph, who’d just started entering the forest.
“Oh, you found one of Sutherland’s cabins.”
“Sutherland?”
“He and a trapping partner discovered Lake Crescent a long time ago. Their cabins dot the forest surrounding it.” Steph linked arms with Lizzie. “Glad to see you’re okay. Let’s catch up with the others—you’re going to love the view.”
Lizzie nodded, putting her energies back into the hike. Steph set a brisk pace, and pretty soon, Lizzie felt sweat dripping down her back.
Regardless of how sweaty and hot she was, she couldn’t stop thinking about the whistle in her pocket. Her hand strayed there frequently, feeling the outline through her jeans. She’d take a better look at it later, when she had the chance.
They finally reached the top, and Steph was right—it was breathtaking. Lizzie had never seen a lake so beautiful, surrounded by such a vivid green forest. Even though the sky was still clouded over, the lighting was perfect and everyone took plenty of pictures, including Lizzie.
After a picnic and some lounging around, the group headed back.
***
Steph gave everyone half an hour to freshen up before dinner, and Lizzie had fun exploring the shower—the wall was lined with all kinds of knobs and levers. She hopped in and streams of water hit her from every angle, giving her body a much-needed massage. She dressed in dinner-appropriate clothes, or what she thought were appropriate: a black skirt and a blue top with ruffles.
At the table, Lizzie eagerly awaited dinner, swinging her feet. They barely reached the floor. Servers brought out bread and soup first, and everyone went quiet as they started eating.
Steph put her spoon down. “When does your friend come?”
Lizzie savored the delicious taste of zuppa toscana—one of her favorite soups—before responding. “Day after tomorrow. You’ll just love Nicole—she’s tall and pretty and mature.”
“She’ll be coming with my son Nate, right? And Nate’s roommate—what’s his name again?”
“Austin. He’s a great guy and a really good friend.”
She then pointed around the table, indicating people as she spoke about them. Nate had three older sisters and a younger brother. All of them were there, along with a couple of spouses and Steph’s grandchildren. Lizzie stared at Nate’s younger brother for a moment. She’d never met a fifth child before—it was rare for people to have three kids, let alone four. But a fifth? She couldn’t help but wonder if the teenager had magic, too. Wasn’t it just the fourth child, though? She’d have to ask Austin when he came—he was sure to know.
Then Steph turned her questioning back to Lizzie. “Were your parents happy to have a Fire Arete?”
“Not at first—my mom wanted me to be a Wind Arete, like my best friend, Nicole, who’s a few months older than me. But I was born with red hair that just wouldn’t ever turn blond, so she resigned herself to having a child with fire powers instead of wind.”
Steph took a drink, then set the glass back down. “I can see why you’re not attending the Arete university in Maine—that’s far from home—but why did you choose Katon instead of the Texas university?”
“It’s where Nicole wanted to go, and I wanted to be with her, so my parents and I scraped up the necessary cash.”
“Mmm.” Steph pushed her plate back, motioning for one of the servers to remove it. She stood and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m ready for bed. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
***
Goodnights were exchanged and Lizzie went straight to her room. She wasn’t ready for bed yet, though. Then she remembered the whistle, which sat on her dresser where she’d put it after the hike. It was pretty dirty, so she cleaned it in the sink, then held it up to the light. The thing still had magic—even now, she felt it. Who created it? And for what purpose?