I grabbed one, handling it delicately when I noticed the yellowish tint of age that covered the page and the ancient font that the text was written in. “How old are these?”
“Why does this smell like Earl Grey?” Mee-maw asked before Trudy could answer, sniffing hers.
“They’re from, like, an hour ago?” she replied with a sage nod. “And the tea thing was for ambience. You just wet the bags and rub them on the--” Trudy broke off at our stares. “Forgive me for trying to get us in the spirit, here,” she said, holding up her hands defensively.
“I think it’s a nice touch,” Mee-maw said with a curt nod. “If you’re gonna do something, do it right.”
Trudy beamed at her and then cleared her throat.
“All right, back to business. Let’s all read to ourselves for a second to get the cadence of the text first.”
I glanced back at the paper to see that it was just regular computer paper with a short chant, almost like a prayer, typed out on it in flowery letters. “So we just say this together?”
“Yes,” Trudy said, herding us like children into a semicircle around the three open spots where gravestones had once stood, before placing her lantern in the center. She’d put the three of us in the center with Patrick on our left before walking to her own spot on the far right. “We may have to repeat it a few times, but I have it on good authority that this chant will reconnect you with the magic of your ancestors.”
I nodded, wondering if her idea of an authority was as tenuous as Mee-maw’s when she was going on about her conspiracy theories. I’d have liked to think a librarian would be a little more discerning but it was hard to expect much from someone who was as into the Illuminati stuff as she was. It wasn’t like anyone had any better ideas, though.
Patrick, who had been silent and visibly uncomfortable since we’d walked through the gate, finally piped up. “Maybe I should go stand at the entrance and keep watch?”
Mee-maw silenced him with a glare, going full Warden-mode as she snapped, “You’ll stand here and like it, young man, with all that you owe the three of us. You’re lucky I haven’t smacked you upside the head for what you did to my granddaughter, so don’t push your luck.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked back down at the page without a word. Mee-maw’s tongue had dulled some with age but a dull knife was still a knife, after all.
“Let us begin,” Trudy said, beginning to chant slowly, her eyes closed.
The rest of us followed suit, droning the incomprehensible, vaguely latin-sounding, words along with her. It was super awkward at first, and I found myself opening one eye and locking gazes with a slightly skeptical-looking Zoe about halfway through the first recitation. Soon enough, though, a strange sense of calm seemed to blanket us and the otherwise-terrifying graveyard.
A sense of calm that still hadn’t amounted to anything more as we completed the chant for the dozenth time.
“I don’t want to be a downer, team, but what’s the plan now?” Zoe said with a sigh. “Don’t you think it would have worked by now if it was going to?”
“We started a couple minutes early. Let’s try just a few more times,” Trudy said, looking embarrassed as she closed her eyes and leading us into the chant again.
It struck me all at once how creepy this was and how bad this would look if anyone saw us. A group of witches chanting spells that were probably found on an internet forum in the middle of a graveyard? How freaking cliché could we get?
Those thoughts faded quickly, however, and were replaced with a strange feeling of something else. Like a shift in the very fabric of the world.
As if something broken was becoming whole again as a puzzle piece clicked into place.
I tried to say something...let the others know what I was feeling, but the sensation was too overwhelming, rendering me speechless.
I let the paper in my hands fall to the ground, staring at the grass in front of me. I was strangely drawn to it as I stepped forward, feeling more like a spectator to my body’s actions than the one actually controlling them as I dropped to my knees.
In the distance somewhere, I thought I heard frantic voices calling my name. I couldn’t make out what any of them were saying, their words seeming as foreign as the chant. In an all-too rare moment of stunning clarity, I knew what to do as surely as I knew how to tie my shoes. Magic flowed through my body as the world around me came alive.
I could feel the breath of the trees.
Sense the elation of the owl as it swooped down with open talons to snatch its midnight snack from the grass.
Smell the sweet flora and musky fauna teeming in the nearby forest.
But most of all, I could feel them. My ancestors. Their wisdom. Their power. Their love.
A sparkling image of Maude floated to the forefront of my mind, and even though she was miles away, safe at the bakery, I could sense the wavering arc between us. Our link, fragile and thin, but still there. On instinct, I heaved with all my strength, feeling a strange sense of relief as the ground began to tremble beneath me.
My previously riotous world went silent for a moment and I opened my eyes, coming back into myself. I realized in that moment that I was on the ground, and tried frantically to stand, slightly dizzy and super disoriented.
Patrick shouted my name, jerking me to my feet but I didn’t even turn to look at him as I stumbled and stood. What was in front of us was too wonderful.
An ornate mausoleum with gilded doors had erupted from the ground and pushed its way from the soil and grass.
“There’s more,” Trudy hissed in awe.
She was right. Two other mausoleums rose from the ground in a shower of dirt and pebbles and earthworms to flank the first.
“Holy mackerel,” Mee-maw said, her eyes wide.
“I guess that chant of yours had something to it after all, Trudy,” Zoe said, looking appreciatively at the librarian. “Well done, friend. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Trudy said, standing a little taller. “You’re so welcome. So glad to help.”
Whether it was the chant itself or just our presence here in our ancestral burial grounds, we wouldn’t have come if not for Trudy. I wanted to melt with relief that my instinct in trusting her hadn’t been wrong.
I contemplated the mausoleums for a long moment and then nodded, certain of what we were supposed to do next.
“We need to go inside.” I felt drawn to the mausoleum in the center like a moth to a flame, and each second we waited to enter felt like a mild form of torture.
“I’ll keep watch,” Patrick said, furrowing his brow, his face as white as a sheet as the muscle in his jaw ticked.
There was no time to worry about his anxiety around magic. All that mattered right now was seeing what was inside that darned tomb. I looked up to see that Zoe and Mee-maw were already just about to step into the two flanking mine.
“Meet back here soon,” Zoe said, an almost glazed look in her eyes as she ran her hand lovingly over the stone of the mausoleum she stood before.
“Don’t you think we should check them out one by one, in case--” Trudy began, looking around, but it was too late. Mee-maw and Zoe had already pulled the trigger even as I felt myself walking toward the one in the center, as if on autopilot.
“Stay with me, Trudy,” I said, pushing the golden door open. The second I stepped in, though, I regretted the invitation. It felt wrong to have someone else in here. Like allowing someone to read your diary. I pushed the feeling aside, relieved as Trudy’s lantern revealed the interior.
I stilled, surprised to find a fairly bland room that was empty, save the stone casket in the back. I winced as the stone door to the mausoleum slammed shut with a grinding thud.
“Whoa,” Trudy whispered.
I was about to respond when I realized that everything had changed. The tomb that had been no more than seven or eight feet tall and ten square feet big had opened up into a massive space the size of a house, but with a higher cei
ling. Beautiful tapestries adorned the walls, and golden vases and bric a brac that clearly hadn’t been touched by the passage of time littered the floor.
Whoever my ancestor was, she’d had a rather gaudy sense of style.
“Unreal.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Trudy squeaked, jumping up and down in excitement before rushing to one of the bookshelves that now lined the walls.
I pushed down the part of me that still felt wrong having someone else digging through the stuff in here, my stuff, and walked toward the very back end of the tomb. There, a drab, stone altar lay, with a small ceramic vase on top that contained a single black rose. Though it was the least flashy thing in the room, I’d never seen anything as perfect and beautiful in my life. The altar was dimpled with three indents, two in the shape of circles of different sizes on the sides and a large rectangle in the middle.
I stepped up with bated breath, knowing the flower was real and alive before I even touched it. I took a deep pull of its fruity, sweet scent and stood in front of it for a few moments before breaking from my trance as I noticed a wooden box protruding from a hole in the wall just behind the altar. My hands shook as I opened it to find a sturdy-looking compass, its dull, jet-black paint unmarred by the passage of time. I lifted it from its resting place, on a whim, checking to see if it fit inside the smaller circle on the altar.
When it didn’t, I slipped it into my pocket reverently.
Mine, a voice from deep inside me whispered.
“Someone is here!”
This voice wasn’t internal, and it definitely wasn’t a whisper.
“Right now. We have to go!”
Patrick.
“The Organization?” Trudy asked, eyes wide as saucers as I turned to face her.
“I hope not. Look,” I said, grabbing her shoulder, speaking in hushed but firm tones, “you stay hidden for now. If it is them, I’ll do my best to handle this with my magic. Whatever happened in here tonight, I can feel it inside me now. It will be okay.”
She opened her mouth to protest but I cut her off at the pass.
“I know you want to help, and you have. More than you know. But we need to keep you safe. You’re too important to our coven for us to lose you now.”
It was true. But it was also true that she wouldn’t be much use in a fight and her presence could quickly turn into a liability if they managed to take her hostage.
She considered my words for a moment, then lifted her head proudly and nodded. “As you wish, Mistress.”
Making a mental note to have a talk with her about the new title, I wheeled around and sprinted to the door. Adrenaline beat a tattoo in my temples as I shoved it open, a prayer on my lips.
Patrick stood a dozen feet ahead of me, bathed in light.
“What do we do?” Zoe hissed.
She and Mee-maw were already outside of their mausoleums with looks of terror on their faces. A cold chill ran through me, followed by a deep nausea as I saw the source of the light. A black SUV with tinted windows had driven onto the cemetery grounds, no regard for running over graves. No respect for the dead. And now, three men were pouring out of the vehicle as the driver slammed his door, striding toward us. A shudder rocked through me as he moved away from the glare of the headlights.
Wiry, tall, black gloves. Sunglasses.
My slim hope that we’d get by with only having to sweet talk the cops and potentially get thrown in the psych ward evaporated as I faced off with the man who had kidnapped me.
“Kill the traitor,” the man said.
“But the boss…” One of them balked, pulling back from Patrick for a moment.
“I said, kill him. And then grab the clairvoyant witch. We need her alive to complete the ritual!”
The other man shot me a dubious look.
“We all but severed the link,” black gloves snarled in disgust. “Her magic is weak. Don’t be a chicken!”
I clenched my fists tight, hoping against hope that he was wrong. The kernel of magic was still inside me somewhere. It’d caught the teacup, after all.
The three men in the back charged toward Patrick, pulling knives from their belts and trying to surround him. I reached for my power, tugging as hard as I could to try to bring it out, but it felt like I was trying to pry open a rusted door.
Patrick turned, as if to run, before exploding off of his front foot, directly toward the closest attacker. The man slashed at him but Patrick was too fast, pushing his arm aside and landing a powerful punch to the man’s head, dropping him to the ground.
“Come on, come on, come on!” I whispered as the other two men stepped in, forcing Patrick back from their downed comrade, who showed no sign of getting up. If I didn’t get my magic working soon, there was a good chance I’d be watching Patrick die right in front of my eyes.
Patrick dipped in and out of the range of their knives with agility, landing hits and trying to disarm them, but he was gradually being pushed back. He was putting up a valiant fight but it was clear what the outcome would be, he was just stalling for time.
A soft click sounded to my right and saw that Mee-maw was aiming her revolver at the man in the gloves, her hands shaking. “Call them back,” she said firmly.
His underlings were too fast, however. Patrick dipped in, landing a strike to one man’s arm and preparing to dodge a slice from the other man, but the slice never came. He unleashed a savage kick instead, striking Patrick right on his kneecap. He and his partner leapt on him, with one holding a knife to his throat, knees on his arms, and the other handled his legs.
Their leader smiled. “Drop the gun.”
I heard the clunk as it hit the ground but my eyes were already closed, a calmness spreading through my body as I prepared to unleash my magic on them. Zoe was faster, however, and my eyes shot open just in time to see the two men being thrown violently away from Patrick, right into the third, unconscious lackey.
Get ‘em, cousin!
“Ah!” the man in the gloves said, looking more excited than worried. “She’s developing quickly.”
The calm clarity returned as all three men began to rise, picking up their fallen knives, and began to rush at Patrick. I tugged once more and the imaginary door to my magic swung open, revealing a huge, glorious well of energy, swelling, stretching toward me. I reached for it and yanked it out like a loose tooth, letting it free on the world around me, my intentions clear.
Protect Patrick, Zoe, and Mee-maw. Defeat the men attacking them.
A bolt of purplish lightning split the sky, followed by a crash of thunder as the wind picked up into a cylinder that grew tighter, stronger, into a mini-tornado that made a beeline for the melee. I held up both hands, controlling it, bending it to my will. The masked men screamed as they were swept up in the funnel and spun, before being flung in opposite directions, yards apart. I wheeled around, flicking my wrist toward the man in the black gloves, satisfaction bubbling through me as the storm changed course, tearing over the landscape toward him.
Patrick, Zoe, and Mee-maw stood, watching in awe, untouched by the hungry storm.
I swayed on my feet, vision flickering as the tornado closed in on its final target, sending him crashing into the side of Zoe’s mausoleum.
Then, I dropped to the ground in a heap of exhaustion.
Chapter 12
“Retreat!”
The word was shouted a dozen times, but I couldn’t process its meaning through the ringing in my ears.
“What the hell was that?” a second, furious voice demanded a moment before the rumbling of a car’s engine sounded. The light that had flooded the cemetery faded, and gravel crunched a moment before the world around us went silent.
It wasn’t long before I felt warm hands pulling me to my feet from where I’d been lying on the cold ground.
“They’re gone. God, Cricket, are you okay?” Zoe asked, arm still around me for support.
“Not really,” I said, the words slurring, though my s
ense of balance was returning and the ringing in my ears was gradually getting better.
“That was amazing!” Trudy called, sprinting up to us, dim lantern in hand.
“Good work, kiddo,” Mee-maw muttered, shaking her head in awe. “That whole tornado thing was pretty slick.”
“Thanks,” I said, too exhausted to feel more than relief.
“Patrick?”
He stood a few feet away, regarding me, head cocked. His lip had been split, and blood trickled from his nose, but there’d be plenty of time to worry about that later.
He was alive. We all were.
“I’m fine, but we need to get out of here, they probably already called for reinforcements.” He hobbled over, turning toward the parking lot as if to hide how cut up his face was.
“What’re we going to do about…those?” Trudy asked, pointing to the three mausoleums sticking out of the ground.
I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach but I knew that, regardless of my bone-deep exhaustion, it was up to me to put them back underground.
Who knew what kind of information the Organization could get their hands on if we left them out of the ground?
“Hold me steady,” I said, backing further into Zoe as I brought my mind back to the magic I had inside me. I thought it’d take some time to focus again but, when it came to these tombs, my body knew what to do. I pushed down with the few wispy shreds of power I had left and the tombs went down almost instantly.
“You good?” Patrick asked. “I can carry you if you need.”
“I’m fine,” I said with a weak smile. I pulled away from Zoe and gave walking a try. I stumbled a little at first but got my balance back after just a few steps.
Mee-maw clicked her tongue in approval, patting me on the back a little too hard. “You done good, now let’s get you out of here.”
“Let's get back to my car,” Trudy said, striding quickly past us, a serious look on her face. “I’ll get you guys to the bakery.”
“What if they follow you?” I started, cutting off at a sharp look from Trudy.
“And you’d rather walk home instead? You’d collapse before you made it three blocks, not to mention how fast the Organization would find you. We’re taking my car.”
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