Sophie looked at the window again, then glanced at Esme, raising her eyebrows.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, eh? I’m Finnish. Bears are sacred to my people.”
Sophie nodded, though she had a nagging feeling that there was more to the story than that.
“Lots of Finns in this area,” Sophie said, trying to make conversation.
Esme nodded, a small smile on her lips. “None quite like me, though. Let’s begin.” She paused, and looked around. “We’ll train here,” she said. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do you. I still think you’re screwed, but I hope for your sake and your man’s that I’m wrong.”
Sophie nodded. “Thank you for teaching me.”
Esme smirked. “We’ll see how much you’re thanking me in an hour or so.” She walked across the room. “Okay. Give me your best shot,” she said.
“Uh…”
“Now. I need to see what I’m dealing with. Show me.”
“You want me to hit you with it?” Sophie asked.
“Did you think this would be a fucking sewing circle, little girl? You’re talking about protecting yourself against one of the most vile Shadow warlocks I’ve ever heard of. Now hit me, or it’s time to go. I could be reading right now.”
Sophie tamped down her irritation and focused. She gathered her magic, felt it slithering through her, ready. She gritted her teeth, then flicked her wrist and sent power hurtling toward Esme. With a whispered word and a graceful wave of her hand, Esme constructed what seemed to be an invisible shield against the magic. Sophie’s spell hit it, and, after a moment, Esme dropped her arm.
“Again.”
Sophie went through it all again, and Esme shielded herself easily.
“Again.”
Her head was starting to ache, her stomach turning, her mouth dry with thirst. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the distractions, and gathered her power again, throwing it at Esme with another flick of her wrist. Esme blocked it in an almost bored way.
“Damn, you’re weak,” Esme muttered. “I barely even needed the shield.”
“Thanks,” Sophie said irritably.
“You got stronger as you went on, though,” Esme said as if she hadn’t heard her. “What changed?”
“Calder’s curse is messing with me.”
Esme nodded slowly. “You said you were practicing with your magic. What were you able to do?”
Sophie told her about the trees, the moss she’d made grow. Her theory that she could use the magic well only when it matched up with her beliefs as a Lightwitch. She had expected derision, mocking. She knew Marshall had no respect at all for the Light, and assumed that was a general attitude among Shadow witches and warlocks.
Esme looked thoughtful. “Who taught you how to use your Light magic?”
“I did.”
Esme watched her closely. “Self-taught?”
“My mom had no magic at all. I mean, it was there, but not enough to actually do anything with. She said that I was the first one in our line in a very long time to actually be able to use my magic for anything. It’s dying out in our line. I guess it has, now, thanks to Marshall.”
“Did he ever go after your mom? Didn’t your aunt live around here?”
Sophie nodded. “Both of them were pretty much powerless. Once he knew that, he didn’t bother with them. You can’t turn someone when there’s nothing there to turn, I guess.”
Esme nodded. “Is your mom still around?”
“She’s dead,” Sophie said, aware of her clipped tone. She was about to start clawing at herself to get some relief from the wriggling feeling of Shadow and the curse crawling beneath her flesh.
“What happened?”
“Marshall killed her,” she said, starting to pace. “Can we get back to work now?”
“So is this about revenge or protection?”
“Why does it matter?” Sophie asked as she paced. She felt like she was moving in a weird, jerky fashion, like a marionette, almost, as if her legs and arms refused to move in calm, easy motions. Her heart was pounding, that weird pressure building inside of her.
“You’ve already figured this out, and I’m starting to get the picture, too. It has to be about protection for you. You try to use your magic to destroy, and it’s useless. Honestly, you may as well have been tickling me.”
Sophie threw her a dirty look. “Protection isn’t going to do a lot if it comes down to a face-off against Marshall. I need to make this work.”
“There’s no ‘making’ Shadow work,” Esme sneered.
“I made Light work,” Sophie shrugged.
Esme narrowed her eyes. “You assume a level of control. Most likely, you stumbled into figuring out how to let Light work.”
Sophie didn’t reply. She didn’t feel like arguing, or like explaining to someone she barely knew, how she’d eventually come to work with the Light.
“No matter what you think you know, you don’t know a damn thing,” Esme said after a moment. “And I don’t know. Maybe that is the way Light works. But it’s not the way Shadow works. Shadow is wild. Uncontrollable. It is bigger than all of us. You would do well to remember that.” She stood up. “Again.”
“That’s pretty much it. How many times can you watch me do the same thing?” Sophie asked. “I need you to teach me something new.”
“And I need to get a good sense of your power before I can do that. So shut it and hit me.”
Sophie focused, drawing Shadow together within her, and threw it at Esme.
“Again.”
Sophie groaned, but did what Esme told her to do. They went through the routine several more times, Sophie gathering Shadow to throw at Esme, and Esme acting for the most part as of she barely felt what Sophie was throwing at her.
“Okay. Let’s try something else,” Esme said.
“Thank you,” Sophie muttered, and Esme smirked.
“I’m so sorry you’re not entertained, your Highness,” Esme said. “You’ve watched me make my shield several times now. It’s your turn. I’m going to hit you now. Try to block it.”
“I—“ before Sophie could utter another syllable, Esme’s power hit her, sending her crashing back into the bookshelves behind her.
“Oh, I forgot to mention: you’re going to pick up every book you knock off my shelves. They’re in a specific order, and I want them put back just the way they were.”
Sophie glared at Esme, wincing a little. She would definitely have a bruise on her back from that one. She noticed Esme raise her hand, getting ready to hit Sophie with Shadow, and Sophie hurriedly tried to ready herself. She could see, again, how to make a protective shield. Light knew she’d done it for most of her life, shielding her home and herself from Marshall and his power. The spell was still there, as if it was waiting to be filled so she could use it. She tried to force Shadow into the spell she knew, and was rewarded by another trip crashing back into Esme’s bookshelves.
“Again,” Esme said, and now she was smiling.
“You’re enjoying this,” Sophie said in disbelief.
“Oh, it helps that you look so much like Migisi. Again.” And without any further warning, Esme hit her with Shadow again, and, just as before, Sophie went flying back into the bookcases.
“You are pathetic,” Esme said, shaking her head. “Pick those books up. I need to think.” She sat behind the large desk and wordlessly watched as Sophie started picking up books and putting them back on shelves. Every time she bent, Sophie winced. She was going to be feeling this lovely little training session for a while.
“That’s not where that one goes,” Esme said, and Sophie glared at her. “It goes between Aphrodisiacs in Shadow and Vanity Curses.”
Still glaring at Esme, Sophie put the book in the place she’d indicated. “Yeah, Shadow is a lovely thing,” she muttered. “I feel dirty just holding these books.”
“Oh. Well I’m so sorry you’ve fouled yourself, princess,” Esme said. “Remember that you a
sked me for help.”
“I know,” Sophie said quietly, finishing putting the books back. The room was silent for several moments as Sophie finished picking up the mess and Esme sat, watching Sophie with a thoughtful look on her face. There wasn’t a sound in the room other than the ticking of the ornate black clock on the wall near Esme’s desk and the sound of books sliding onto their shelves. “And I appreciate the fact that you’re even helping me. Light knows you have no reason to,” Sophie continued, crossing her arms and studying Esme once she finished cleaning up the books she’d dislodged. “But you need to understand that as much as I want to learn to protect myself from Marshall, I also have every intention of working my way back to the Light.”
“And I think you should know that in all my years, I’ve never heard of such a thing. The Light is fickle. It leaves its champions for the slightest mistake. And every one of you eventually wishes it would come back.”
“Did Migisi wish for it?”
“Of course. She was as obsessed with the idea as you seem to be. And I can tell you, without a single doubt, that she never made it back to the Light. She died a Shadow witch.”
“How did you meet her?”
Esme visibly stiffened. “Through a family member,” she said, her face like stone.
“Well. I’m not Migisi. I’ll find a way to make it back. So I won’t be doing anything that’s going to corrupt me further. And thank you for reminding me of what I am. I think you were right—“
“There’s a shock,” Esme said, and Sophie shook her head.
“—I can’t use my power to cause pain, or it won’t work. I kind of got that when I was practicing with the trees. I can’t just cause outright destruction, even though that’s what Shadow wants. I have to have a Light-worthy reason, or nothing happens. So, yes, you’re right. All I want to do with Shadow is learn to protect myself. I just need to learn how to shield, maybe.”
“Do you really think shielding, even if you are able to learn it, will matter against Marshall? Hasn’t he already proven that he won’t hurt you by going after you directly? He’ll go after those around you, because he knows that’ll hurt you the most,” Esme said, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth. “From what I know of him, he’s not above hurting women. He did some awful things to Migisi, especially once she seemed like she was trying to get out from under his control. And sometimes, even before then. He got off on that kind of thing.”
“He mostly just seems to like seeing me afraid of him. He seemed like he wanted to hurt me the other day, but he couldn’t do it. I remind him of someone he cared for.”
“That won’t protect you forever,” Esme said.
“I need to do this my own way.”
Esme sighed and shook her head. “Then I hope you’re prepared for those around you to suffer while you try to keep your hands clean. Marshall doesn’t have a speck of nobility in him.”
“I know,” Sophie said.
“That’s all for today. Come back on Friday, same time.”
Sophie nodded, knowing it would be easier to just ask her boss to switch her shift, especially now that it was the off-season, than it would be to get Esme to reschedule.
“You can see yourself out. Just close the front door behind you.”
“Thanks, Esme.”
Esme opened a book, acting as if she hadn’t heard Sophie. Apparently, she was dismissed. She walked down the stairs, through the stark white hallway, past all of those empty rooms again, and sighed with relief once she stepped out the front door. She closed it, then practically ran to her car, more than ready to be away from Esme and her anger and her creepy empty house.
Chapter Fifteen
Sophie got out of her car and immediately felt the calmness of being home settle over her like a blanket. No matter what else was happening, her little piece of the wilderness never failed to make her feel as if all was not lost.
Of course, if she didn’t get herself figured out, she could very likely see it disappear, just as the forest had died around Esme’s house. Life and Shadow. The two didn’t exactly go together.
Sophie got out of her car and glanced toward Calder’s house. He wasn’t in his driveway, which was a surprise. He kept very regular work hours for someone who worked for himself, in his driveway. In the past several weeks, they’d established a pattern: wake up together, run, eat breakfast, then Calder would head to his garage to start working. Sophie would start her day, and, if she was home, they would get together again for lunch. He’d go back to work for a few hours, and then they’d make dinner together. If Sophie was working, the schedule was a little different, but she knew that whether she was there or not, Calder was always in his driveway between nine and four.
His car was still in the driveway, and she could see his motorcycle near the side of the house. Sophie bit her lip, then shrugged and headed around her house to check on her goats, wondering if maybe they’d gotten out again and Calder was dealing with them. When she got there, though, the three goats were standing in their pen, and they all looked toward Sophie with that bored, disdainful look that certain goats just seemed to have nailed. She gave them fresh water, and went around re-checking their fencing. Wherever she went, Merlin shadowed her, trying to headbutt her through the fence.
“You are an asshole, goat,” Sophie muttered. “Go butt your weirdo friends.” One of the other goats bleated at her disapprovingly, and she moved on to the next side of the goat pen. She heard a car on the road, and looked up to see a big white truck pulling into her driveway. She smiled and waved as her friend Thea climbed out of the truck, and jogged toward the driveway.
“Hope you don’t mind my stopping by,” Thea said as she and Sophie hugged.
“Of course not,” Sophie said. “I meant to come by and see you this week.”
“Come by anyway. I have a new pizza dough recipe I’m trying out. You can taste-test it for me.” Not only was Thea the local Ojibwe historian and record-keeper, a retired teacher, and a youth counsellor, she was also the best cook Sophie had ever known, and she considered herself lucky to be the recipient of so many of Thea’s culinary experiments.
Sophie grinned. “Deal.”
“Though, really, I don’t know how much use I’ll be to you, kiddo. Want to walk?” Thea asked, gesturing toward the woods, and Sophie nodded. They began walking toward the trees, toward the path that Sophie ran every day. “I brought the last of the files I could find about Migisi.” She handed Sophie a manila envelope, and Sophie accepted it gratefully. “There really wasn’t much left.”
Sophie and Thea had continued to work together to put together the pieces of her ancestor’s life after the curse. Sophie had enlisted Thea’s help on the off-chance that, as a local historian and member of the Ojibwa tribe, as Migisi had been, she would be able to shed some light on her crazy ancestor and the things she’d done. They’d found bits and pieces of Migisi’s story all over Michigan’s upper peninsula, and even down in Detroit. What had emerged was the story of someone who had clearly lost her damn mind, and, maybe, somewhere along the way, found it again. Reports of Migisi right after the time in which she’d cursed Luc had been terrifying, a witch who had spread violence and discord wherever she went. Not only had her mere presence caused riots in some cities and small towns, but Migisi herself had at times gotten right in the middle of the violence, injuring and cursing people. Of course, most of the stories of curses were written off in the local media at the time as hysteria and superstition, but Sophie had a feeling they were much more than that.
And then, a few years later, mentions of Migisi in the media had pretty much ceased. They’d started looking for anything that may have been an allusion to her, though it had often felt like grabbing at straws, and their meetings had become less regular in the past few weeks, partially because of the fact that there was little to talk about as far as Migisi was concerned, and partially because Sophie was finding it hard to sit still and study old newspaper articles.
“It
looks like she ended up settling back here, in your house, which we already knew because she died here in Copper Falls,” Thea said, and Sophie nodded. Oddly enough, Migisi and Luc had died on the same day, and were buried side-by-side in the local cemetery, just down the highway. Reports of each of their deaths listed separate, unrelated reasons: illness and an accident. The story Calder’s family had was that Luc had jumped off one of the Rockway cliffs in a desperate attempt to end his suffering, cursing Migisi as he did.
One thing seemed clear to Sophie: if they’d hated one another so much, they wouldn’t have been buried together. Not when Luc had a wife and child who were later buried in a separate plot elsewhere in the cemetery. She held onto that fact, that maybe they’d somehow managed to find their way back to one another. It made the worst days, those days when the curse she’d taken from Calder had her teetering on the edge of madness, a little less desperate. It wasn’t much to hold onto, but she’d take it.
Shadow Sworn (Copper Falls Book 2) Page 14
