Crescent Calling

by Nicole R. Taylor

  Boone shifted from foot to foot before sitting beside me on the end of the grave. Above, the sun was beginning to set, the clouds broken enough for light to stream through. The sky was on fire, and every shade of red and orange streaked across the tops of the trees.

  I shivered, burying into my jacket. The ground was still wet from the earlier downpour, and my jeans were soaked through at the knees. The mixture of old and new gravestones was as eerie as it was beautiful, made even more chilling knowing the story Boone was about to tell.

  “Hannah used to be the bartender at Molly McCreedy’s,” he began uncertainly. “After…no one remembers her. Robert said it was because she was one of the higher fae. Trickery was her nature. She’d been livin’ in Derrydun under our noses. For how long, I don’t know. Well before I arrived, anyway. She said she’d been feedin’ off the hawthorn behind Sean McKinnon’s house.”

  “The hawthorn that died?”

  “Aye.” He nodded. “The one where I was attacked by the craglorn.”

  “How did she…” I swallowed hard.

  “Hannah first appeared to me as a fox,” he went on. “Though she didn’t let on who she was until much later. Until she…changed in front of me. I thought she was a shapeshifter like me. I was so alone, Skye…to think there were others like me? It was worth the risk.”

  “You went outside the boundary,” I stated. He’d already told me as much in his awkward, halting way.

  “I had to know. It had been eatin’ me up inside. The mystery of who I am. All the memories I have are of the last three years. There’s nothin’ else…” He sighed and began worrying the hem of his shirt. “At the time…”

  “It was worth the risk?” I asked, my hackles rising. “Putting my mother in danger after all she did for you?”

  “It was a trap,” he said, grasping my hands in his. “Hannah led me outside the boundary and trapped me.”

  “What for?”

  I narrowed my eyes, finally able to look him in the face. His hair had sprung back into tight ringleted curls from the rain, and his eyes were darker than usual. The regret and pain in them were as clear as day. Good.

  “Someone is lookin’ for me. For me, and now you,” he said.

  “Who?” I tore my hands away. “Stop beating around the bush, and just say it, Boone. I’m not messing around here.”

  “Hannah had made a deal,” he went on, his cheeks paling, “with a witch named Carman. In exchange for me, she was guaranteed a chance…”

  “A chance to what?” I demanded.

  “A chance to go home.”

  “Home?” I snorted. “To the fae realm? I thought that was impossible!”

  “Nothin’s impossible with enough magic.” He lowered his head. “Aileen, she sensed the trouble I was in, and she came. She fought Hannah…”

  “And Hannah killed her.” It was a statement. Hannah, the spriggan, the trickster fae, had killed my mother.

  Boone nodded. “Aileen took her down with her magic and Hannah… She dragged her…”

  “Don’t say it.” I covered my mouth with my hand and glanced away. The fae had buried her alive. That was why her coffin was empty. That was why she wasn’t here.

  “Skye… I’m so sorry.”

  “Those stupid cards,” I muttered under my breath. “That damned Star…”

  “What?” Boone asked. “Did you draw somethin’ else from the tarot cards?”

  “The Star,” I said sharply. “I drew the Star. No more Tower. Just Star, Star, Star, Star…”

  “The Star comes after the Tower,” he said, confirming what I’d read in the book. “In the months before… Aileen drew the Tower almost daily.”

  “What are you trying to say? Aileen was the Tower all this time?” My mouth fell open. “When you said ‘out with the old, and in with the new,’ it was true, wasn’t it?”

  “I think she knew somethin’ was comin’,” he said quietly. “But I don’t think she knew it was goin’ to be like it was.”

  I snorted and shook my head. “She never got to draw the Star.”

  “But you did.”

  “Screw the Star,” I exclaimed in frustration. “It’s all faith this and universe that. Well, screw the lot!”

  “Skye.”

  “I need to know what to do! I don’t know what any of this stuff means, Boone. I can’t… I can’t see where I’m meant to step. I can’t feel my magic at all.”

  “Just give it some time,” he said in an attempt to reassure me.

  “We don’t have any, and you know it. What if one of those crag-whatever’s come looking, huh? What if the wolf comes back? I’m useless!”

  “I’m here to help you,” Boone said, wrapping his arm around me and tugging me against his side. “I made a vow to protect you, and that’s what I’m goin’ to do. No matter what. I owe my life to Aileen and the Crescents. I’m yours. Forever.”

  I’m yours. Forever. The words echoed around the empty cemetery and lodged into my heart like shards of broken glass. They dug deep, stirring something inside me I didn’t want to acknowledge. Forgiveness, love… Whatever.

  “Boone…” I moaned and fell against his side, unable to hold my tears back anymore.

  Sobbing against his chest, I let it all out as he held onto me. The loss, the frustration, the fear of the unknown. I soaked his shirt through with my agony, and he let me. He kept his promise.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said soothingly. “We’ll find your magic, Skye. It’s in there. I’ve felt it.” He tightened his grip and pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I won’t let them touch you. I would die before I let them harm you.”

  Chapter 14

  It was a weird feeling, having someone declare they would die for you. People said stupid things like that all the time, but you always knew when it came to the crunch, they would never go through with it. You know, the actual dying part. Most people were cowards, but not Boone. Boone meant every word.

  Maybe it was my magic picking up on his intent, or maybe it was just the emotion he’d put behind his vow, but I believed him.

  Something changed between us that day by Aileen’s empty grave. Something I couldn’t hold or visualize and something that didn’t have a name. Whatever it was, I was happy it had shown up.

  Shielding my eyes from the sun, I stared up at the tower house.

  The other week, I’d learned the tree that was overtaking the outer walls was a rhododendron. The flowers were a vivid purple, only blooming for the first time in the past week, and the entire plant was covered with them, but Mary told me it was classified as a weed. It was an exotic species that had invaded foreign soil and was threatening to swallow Ireland’s woodlands until there was nothing left. It was a stark comparison to my own plight and that of the magic that had once thrived here.

  The rhododendrons were beautiful when they were in full bloom, but it was a smoke screen for the real problem. Much like the fae trapped on this side of the doorways, it didn’t belong here.

  Sitting in the meadow beside the ruins, I opened the spell book and began turning the pages. It felt safe here. The bubble surrounding Mary Byrne’s tower house had a calming effect that settled my nerves and then some. Knowing the Crescents were related to her—she might’ve even been part of the coven—helped me forge a stronger link to my heritage

  It was strange how things had settled the longer I’d remained in the village. I was becoming part of the furniture and found myself caring about the people who lived here. Maggie at Molly McCreedy’s, Mairead and her pouty Goth ways, Mrs. Boyle and her broomstick, Fergus and his donkey-riding dog, and Mary Donnelly at the teahouse. Even Sean McKinnon and his drunken rants had become familiar parts of this strange place called Derrydun.

  Now that I’d found out I was a Crescent Witch and my duty was to this place, things seemed to have fallen into place. Well, after I got over my shock at the circumstances. Now I just had to figure out how I was going to actually be a witch. There wasn’t a manual f
or this stuff, but at least I’d found the spell book, which the Internet—the trusty Internet full of opinions and fake news—called a grimoire.

  This particular book was the work of Crescents over hundreds of years—well, at least the bits they’d decided to write down—and it was the only remaining link I had to them. The pages were full of spells and invocations, instructions on how to create talismans, and even rituals to summon and invoke spirits and wild energies. The latter frightened the bejesus out of me, but I didn’t mind the idea of creating a talisman for protection. With all the magic-starved creatures crawling around the wilds of Ireland, it seemed like a fantastic idea.

  Taking out the little clear quartz necklace I’d bought from Irish Moon, I set it in my palm and studied the flaws in the stone, from the six sides of its natural growth in the earth, right down to its point. The flat end was dipped in silver and had a little ring set into the metal, and a silver chain had been threaded through the loop, which was long enough for me to put over my head without undoing the clasp. When worn, it settled between my breasts and was easily hidden underneath my clothes.

  Apparently, quartz crystals were used for protection and capturing and changing bad energies. The intent of the stone matched the talisman I wanted to create, so all I needed to do was join the two together…or so said the spell book. This pendant was exactly what I needed for my experiment.

  It was time to find my magic.

  Setting the book onto the grass, I pressed it flat, anchoring the pages open with a rock. Reading over the incantation again, I held the quartz point in my palm and closed my fist around it. The chain was cool against my skin, but the crystal began to warm the longer I clutched it.

  “I imbue this crystal with the power of protection. May it shield me in times of darkness. May it serve as the armor of the Crescent Witches.” I took another breath and glanced around, but I was alone. “I imbue this crystal with the power of protection. May it shield me in times of darkness. May it serve as the armor of the Crescent Witches.” Then, I spoke the words a third time to seal the spell, focusing my intent and searching for my magic.

  I imagined a ball of golden light in my belly and willed it to grow, then I imagined it flowing into the little crystal. After a moment, I began to feel warm like I’d been sitting in the sun too long, and I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead, wishing I’d brought a bottle of water with me.

  Lying back in the grass, I stared at the sky, clutching the crystal against my chest. Closing my eyes, the ball of golden light flared and then began to fade.

  “Skye.”

  I moaned, swatting away a hand that was shaking my shoulder. “Five more minutes, Dad.”

  “Skye. It’s Boone. Wake up.”

  My eyes sprang open, and I saw Boone above me, his curly hair haloed by a brilliant blue sky.

  “Boone?” I sat up with a start, almost head butting him.

  “What are you doin’?” he demanded, throwing my equilibrium off-center.

  “I was… I wanted to make a talisman,” I muttered, feeling around the grass for the necklace. “For protection.”

  “You have to be careful,” he said, scowling as I picked up the little crystal. “There are many—”

  “Many things out there looking to suck me dry. I know,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Skye, you don’t get it. This was reckless.” He took the book from where it was sitting open on the grass and snapped it shut. “It’s not a game.”

  “I know it’s not!” I exclaimed.

  “I was half a mile away, and I felt the pull of your magic,” he said angrily. “I had to run all the way here. I thought somethin’ had happened…”

  “You have your clothes on,” I said, my head still feeling like it was stuffed with cotton wool.

  “I’m not a nudist, you know. I came here without changin’.”

  “Huh?” I rubbed the inner corners of my eyes, trying not to smear my mascara.

  “Magic takes a toll,” he said, sitting beside me. “You sent out a callin’ card and then fell asleep because the spell was too much, too soon.”

  I gasped, not realizing I’d zapped my own energy to the point I’d conked out on the lawn. What if a busload of tourists had come along and started snapping Kodak moments? How embarrassing.

  “You need to be careful with this.” He wiggled the book under my nose. “Especially away from the hawthorn.”

  “The craglorn…” I said, my head dropping into my hands. “I just sent out a flare, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t forget Carman,” he reminded me. “There are more things than the craglorn to worry about. There’s a bigger battle goin’ on than either of us understands. We’ve been safe here with the hawthorn in the forest, but there will come a day when we’re forced out from under its branches.”

  “I’m not sure I want to remember her at all,” I complained. The mysterious witch who was supposed to be a thousand years old was searching for people like Boone and me. I didn’t like the sound of a mystical battle for magic, either. Up until now, I’d been concerned with protecting Derrydun and myself, but Boone was hinting at something more sinister. Looked like this chapter of Skye William’s awakening witch juju had a second installment coming out in theaters next summer.

  “What else do you know about her?” I asked.

  “All I know about her is three things.” He counted each one off on his fingers. “Carman is an evil-hearted witch, who was banished from Ireland a thousand years ago. She’s still alive after all this time. She’s collectin’ magic so she can reopen the doorways to the fae realm.”

  “Surely there are stories about her?” I asked. “Myths and legends? People have been writing about the fae for centuries.”

  “The problem with stories is they get twisted the more they’re told,” Boone said, picking at the grass. “Someone adds somethin’, and someone else takes somethin’ away. Before long, there isn’t any truth left in the tale.”

  He had a point, which kind of explained my results with my spriggan search on Google.

  “The doorways were closed around the same time she was thrown out,” I mused. “Did she have something to do with it? She must have since she apparently wants to break back in.”

  Boone nodded. “It seems so.”

  “She’s coming for me, isn’t she? Like a destiny thing? The Crescent Witches were the most powerful coven in Ireland at their height, right?”

  “Yeah, Aileen said they were, but we might get lucky.” He didn’t look convinced, and I began to regret my stupid meddling. “It may only be a craglorn who’s noticed.”

  “Great.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s still in the too hard basket.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” he scolded me.

  “I know it’s not! If one shows up, how do we kill it?”

  Boone shrugged, which didn’t ease my nerves. “Aileen used her magic. I was in my gyrfalcon shape, so I didn’t see much. Just…golden light.”

  “Golden light. That’s helpful.” I snatched back the spell book from his lap and shoved my head through the silver chain. The pendant settled against my skin, warming me. “There’s got to be something in here.” I licked my thumb and began swiping through the pages looking for references, wishing they’d known what an index was in the year whatever.

  “Skye…”

  “What?” I snapped. “I feel rotten, okay? I’m a stupid dumbass who knows sweet eff all! If a craglorn comes knocking, I have to make sure I can cut the bitch before it hurts anyone in the village. You don’t know how to kill it, so I’ve got to find out for myself.”

  “Skye, you don’t understand—”

  “No! I don’t! But I get I’ve made myself a target since you’ve just been lecturing me about it for the past ten minutes. This is my mistake to fix.”

  “Skye…”

  “What?” I exclaimed, glaring at him. When he didn’t answer, I said, “How else am I supposed to learn about my legacy? Huh? There’s no one else arou
nd to teach me, so I’ve gotta take a stab at it. Do you know any other witches?” He shook his head. “And even if you did, could we trust them?”

  “Unlikely,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to trust just any witch who comes along, so that means I’m in this on my own with a judgmental shapeshifter with amnesia. Give me a break, okay?”

  Boone snorted and pushed to his feet. There I went digging myself into a hole and making all of this about me. I was such an insensitive jerk.

  “Boone…” I tugged at the laces on his boots. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  “If you’re goin’ to meddle with that thing, then at least go to the hawthorn,” he said irritably.

  I rose to my feet, clutching the book under my left arm. Grabbing the sleeve of his shirt with my right, I pulled him around.

  “Boone, I’m sorry, okay? I messed up, and I didn’t mean… It’s not your fault you can’t remember. You’re not a witch or…”

  “No, I’m not.” His eyes were dark and cold.

  “You’re all I’ve got,” I murmured. “Boone, I…”

  My fingers loosened their grip, and I glanced down, grazing past his lips on the way. Feeling a blush creep into my cheeks, I let him go and hugged the spell book against my chest. This was one of those passionate after-fight kiss moments, but even after the almost kiss at the site of Aileen’s empty resting place, I still shied away.

  I guess I didn’t want to overcomplicate things, but I knew it was an excuse so I didn’t have to face his reaction. What if he rejected me? Boone was the only person who knew about me besides Robert, but I hadn’t seen the lawyer since the funeral. I didn’t want to count on another absentee figure.

  Boone was all I had in this crazy world of magic. Boone the shapeshifter.

  “Skye…”

  My heart zinged as his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers tangling in my dark hair. Coaxing my chin upward, our gazes met.

  The excited chattering of a group of tourists walking up the hill broke us apart, and I combed my fingers through my hair, straightening out the tangles. Boone jumped back about a mile like I’d zapped him with the static electricity I’d been carrying since Robert O’Keeffe electrocuted me with his golden pen. Way to make a girl feel special.