Second Sight (Hollows Ground Book 1)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Copyright
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Books by J.A. Culican
About the author
Contact me
Contents
Dedication
Copyright
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Books by J.A. Culican
About the author
Contact me
To my husband, without whom my fantasy world would not have found its wings.
Copyright © 2017 by J.A. Culican
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. Trademark names appear throughout this book. Rather than trademark name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.
The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities or resemblance to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Edited by: Cassidy Taylor
Cover by: Covers by Christian
ISBN-13: 978-1548110345
ISBN-10: 1548110345
www.dragonrealmpress.com
SECOND SIGHT
by
J.A. Culican
Hollows Ground - Book 1
7 years earlier . . .
“Drina!” I screeched, lurching from my bed and tumbling to the hard floor. I pushed my long, black, sweat-dampened hair out of my face as tears streaked down my cheeks. A cold chill raced up my back as I pushed off the ground and ran to the door. I stumbled down the two metal stairs and barrelled toward the trailer next to mine.
I threw my shoulder against the door to unstick it, flinging it open and slamming it against the thin wall, causing the picture frames to rattle. Ripping Drina’s quilted blanket from her bed, I found her startled blue eyes staring up at me.
“Mirela?” Her hands grabbed at her chest. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”
I squinted my eyes in the dark to see her better. “You're okay?” I whispered, collapsing on the bed next to her.
“Of course I’m alright. What are you doing? It's the middle of the night.” She grabbed for her blanket, still wound tightly between my fingers.
I dropped her quilt and rubbed at my eyes. “I—I had a horrible dream.”
“It couldn't have been that bad.” Drina pushed at my shoulder and rolled onto her side. “You’re lucky my parents are still at the bonfire.”
“Mine, too.” Sighing, I grabbed my hair and pulled it out from under my shoulders.
“You're shaking.” Drina pulled me close to her. “What was your dream about?” she asked, rubbing my shoulder.
I blew out a harsh breath, letting her warmth calm me. “We were playing by the river. You fell in. I couldn't find you. I―”
“I’m fine. You're probably just over-tired from celebrating your birthday today. The big one-three. I can’t wait for my birthday.” She pulled her arm from around me and rested her head on her hands. “Now get some sleep,” she said as she snuggled close beside me.
Twinkling stars shot around the room as a sliver of light passed through the old blinds above Drina’s bed. The light hit the pair of jewel-encrusted wings that hung from a heavy gold chain around my neck. Closing my eyes, I grabbed the necklace in my fist. The necklace was presented to me just a few hours ago by my parents during my 13th birthday celebration. Today had been perfect. Laughter and dancing filled the hours as each member of our community welcomed me into my teens.
Drina snored softly next to me as the nightmare of her death wrapped around me once again with the promise of suffocation. The dream had started out innocent enough. We were down by the lake, playing like we’d done many times before. Only this time, Drina fell in. I searched and searched for her until my own screaming woke me.
I sucked in a huge breath and shook the vision of her death away. It was only a dream. Drina was safe and sound snoring beside me. I exhaled in relief. Closing my eyes, I prayed no more dreams would find me tonight.
***
“Come on, Ela, wake up.” Drina shook me from my fitful sleep.
My eyes cracked open slowly and were met with the soft glow of early morning. It was early. Too early.
“Drina, go back to sleep,” I mumbled as I turned away from her.
“Come on. It’s nice out and all the adults are still sleeping.” She shook me again.
Ignoring her, I shook her hand off my shoulder and closed my eyes.
“Fine, I’ll go to the river without you,” she huffed as she moved away from the bed.
Last night’s dream came back to me in a rush. Drina falling into the water, my frantic search to find her. A chill ran up my back as I turned back toward her. Opening my eyes, I watched Drina tie her old, navy sneaker as she sat on the floor. Her long, tangled hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail,. I pushed my own hair out of my face and sat up, the quilt falling around my hips.
“Why don't we do something else?” I pleaded with her. “Come here, I’ll brush your hair.”
“Don’t be silly. Get up and grab your shoes. Let’s shake that stupid dream you had.” Drina pulled on my hand until I stood in front of her. “Chop, chop,” she said with two claps. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“Please, Drina. I don’t want to,” I whispered as I looked at the ground.
“Ela, look at me.” She grabbed my chin and tilted it up. “You're my best friend. I love you. You tossed and turned all night. Let me prove to you that everything will be okay.”
“
Fine,” I said, resigned. “Just promise to be careful.”
“Pinky promise.” Drina interlocked our fingers and pulled me toward the door.
I slipped on my shoes that were sitting neatly by the door. I didn't remember taking them off last night. My guess was one of our parents had taken them off of me sometime during the night. Drina rushed me out the door and through our makeshift camp. No one was awake yet and the bonfire from last night was still smoking. Our Gypsy band landed in western Pennsylvania only a week ago. The plan was to continue east in the coming weeks. We were moving more quickly the past few weeks, though none of us kids had any idea why.
We arrived at the riverbank as the first rays of sun broke over the treetops. The water rushed past us in a hurry as waves crashed against the boulders that peppered the river. Orange and red leaves fell quietly to the ground around us and the air held a slight breeze. Drina was right―today was a beautiful day. But I was too terrified of my vision to enjoy it.
“Ela!” Drina called. “Look at the log.” She pointed to a tree that had fallen over, creating a bridge to the other side. “Come on,” she waved as she ran over to the trunk.
“Drina,” I muttered as flashes from my dream the night before blinded me. Drina laughing. Drina falling. Me searching. “Don’t go near that tree. Drina. Stop!” I screamed as I raced after her.
Drina laughed as she jumped on the trunk. “Don’t worry so much.” She jumped up and down on the log. “It’s solid as a rock.”
“Drina, please come down,” I begged as I tripped over a root sticking out of the ground.
I landed roughly on the dirt, scraping my hands and knees. A cracking sound caught my attention as I pushed myself off the ground. The trunk crumbled and I watched in horror as Drina fell, disappearing into the sweeping water. My breath caught in my throat as I scrambled toward the bank of the river.
“Drina! Drina!” I screamed, searching the river for any sign of her. “Drina!” I frantically ran up and down the shore as sweat trickled down my face.
I knew I had to get help, but I didn't want to leave her. I rubbed my eyes roughly before looking one last time. Nothing. I sighed in resolution and sprinted back to camp.
“Help! Help!” I panted as I ran past the trailers. “Please, anyone,” I wheezed.
“Ela?” My mom appeared in the door of our home. “Ela, what’s wrong?” She darted toward me and grabbed my tear-stained cheeks.
“Drina. It’s Drina.” I pointed toward the river. “She fell in,” I sobbed.
My mom's eyes grew large in alarm as I watched the men from our clan run toward the river. They seemed to move in slow motion as they shouted to each other and finally disappeared from sight. I fell to my knees as my body shook. My mom followed me to the ground and squeezed me tight. I knew what they would find. Everything had happened just like in my dream.
“Mirela, what happened?” Drina’s mom’s voice asked from above me. “Where is Drina?”
Unburying my head from my mom's shoulder, I looked up. Her face was pale, accentuating her blue eyes that Drina shared with her. Her hand quickly covered her mouth in an attempt to hold in the sobs that started to break loose. I shook my head. I had no idea what to say or if I’d be able to speak at all. This shouldn't have happened. As my eyes met Drina’s mom’s, I prayed they would find her. I prayed they’d find her alive.
“Ela, baby, tell us what happened.” My mom’s voice echoed around me as she rubbed my shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I whispered, sobbing. “It’s not okay.” None of this was okay.
The ground beneath me rumbled with the sounds of footsteps. The men were returning. I buried my head once again against my mom, not wanting to see what they found, but already knowing what it would be.
“No. No. No!” The women around me began to shout and weep as my mom clutched me even tighter.
Tears fell freely down my face as I squeezed my eyes closed. The pain in my chest felt ready to explode as the truth of my dream began to smother me. The wails and cries of the others enveloped me in darkness. Drina was gone. Drina was dead.
“Ela,” my mom muttered. “Ela, look at me.”
I peeked my eyes open and found my mom’s face. Silent tears ran down her cheeks and her hand held my cheek as she told me about Drina. Little did she know I already knew. I knew.
“It’s all my fault,” I stammered. “It’s all my fault.”
“Baby, this isn't your fault,” she soothed.
“Yes, it is. I saw it. I knew it would happen. I should have stopped her.” I covered my face with my hands as the sobs took over.
“Shh, you couldn't have known. You did the right thing by getting help,” Mom cooed.
“No, you don't understand!” I screamed through my sobs as anger began to flow through me. “I saw it, before it happened. I knew. I―”
“What do you mean, Mirela?” Old May asked.
May was our resident fortune teller. I swear she was a hundred years old. She walked hunched over and always wore billowing, brightly-colored dresses. She pushed her large spectacles up her nose as she ambled up to my mother and me. She looked down at us and blinked her larger-than-life eyes.
“Mirela, tell me what you mean. You said you saw it.” She knelt down close to us.
“I dreamt it. A nightmare,” I mumbled.
“Did everything happen as you saw it in your dream?” May asked as she moved even closer to me.
I nodded. “Exactly. I begged her not to go. She said she was going with or without me. I knew. I knew and I still couldn't stop it,” I stammered, turning my head back into my mother's warmth.
“It’s been so many years since we’ve had a child born with a gift,” May stated.
I turned my head back toward her. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she stared right through me. Quickly she inhaled and her eyes shot wide open with a gasp.
“Not just any gift. The gift of precognition. It’s very rare and very dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” I echoed. “What do you mean?”
“You have the gift of second sight. You can foresee the death of anyone who comes in contact with you.”
“That’s impossible,” Mom interjected. “This has never happened before.”
“It came to fruition on her thirteenth birthday. Just as all magic does.” May placed her hand on my head. “Your gift is very powerful.”
“She’s cursed!” Drina’s father shouted. “Death lives inside her.” He pointed at me as his wife clung to him in grief.
“As it does with all of us.” May moved closer to me. “You are a gift. Always remember that.”
“Death is not a gift,” I sobbed. “I don’t want it. Take it from me. Make it stop,” I begged.
The idea of seeing death every time someone got close to me scared me to my core. How was seeing how someone was to die a gift? I shook my head. It was a curse. I was cursed. I pushed away from the safety of my mother's arms and scrambled to my feet, scanning the faces of the only family I had ever known. How was I to survive seeing their deaths? Their faces were pale, eyes scared. Many of the women were crying as they clung to their loved ones.
“Mirela.” My mom stood up next to me. “We’ll figure it out. All will be okay.”
Her voice shook as she spoke. Even she didn't believe the words she said. Nothing would ever be okay again. As I watched the others fall apart in grief, I knew what I had to do. Before I could change my mind, I ran.
Present Day
Happy birthday to me. I sigh as I look out the window of my run-down studio apartment. My paper blinds hang by a thread. When I drop my hand, they snap closed in front of me, effectively separating me from the rest of the world.
Exhaling, I turn back to my card table and lone chair, the only furniture I have other than an old mattress that was left here by the last tenant. Plunking myself down on the chair, I scan the colorful beads that cover the surface. The vibrant stones mock my mood. Today marks my twenty-first bi
rthday. Others my age would be out enjoying this milestone with drinks and friends. Not me. I’m holed up in my cramped room where I spend every minute of my day. Rarely do I leave the safety these four walls provide.
The only luck I’ve had since running away eight years ago is coming across my landlord. She rents me this dump for just about nothing. In exchange, I make her jewelry to sell. For years now, she’s brought me materials and groceries each Sunday in exchange for finished pieces. I have yet to see her death, which I think means I have a while until this gig ends.
I’ve made it my mission to stay away from everyone as much as possible. Which, unfortunately, has not stopped the visions of death. My apartment building has a lot of tenants and walls so paper-thin that I hear almost everything that goes on with my neighbors. Not to mention I spend much of my day watching the goings-on through the peephole in my front door. Human contact is ingrained in me just as it is everyone else. At least once a week, the fire alarm goes off and I have to exit my safe haven, but I keep my distance as everyone files out in either laughter or anger.
My neighbor directly next door has what looks like a three-year-old boy with shaggy blond hair. His laughter echoes around my apartment as he plays every day. He is a constant reminder of what I will never have. A family, a life outside of the curse I was born with.
I close my eyes and resolve myself to my fate. I’m cursed. No need to dwell on it, not when I have work that needs to get done by tomorrow. Picking up a bright red gem, I hold it in my hand as light sparkles off it. I pull out my pliers and work on attaching it to a bracelet, losing myself in my work.
My eyelids feel heavy as I place the bracelet I just finished in the box next to the door. Stretching, I eye my bed in despair. Visions frequent my dreams almost nightly. Rarely do I get them while awake. Nightmares of death. I shake my head. I need to get some sleep. I’ve been awake for nearly twenty hours.
I amble over to my mattress and grab my coarse blue blanket. My long, black hair shields my sight as I pull my hair tie loose and lie on my lumpy bed. Situating my head on my arm and using my other to pull my blanket up, I settle myself in for the night. With reluctance, I close my eyes and fall asleep.