by E. E. Holmes
Hannah’s face became very serious. Then she leaned forward, put a hand on each of my shoulders and shook me violently.
“Ouch! Hannah, what are you—stop!” I cried, pulling myself out of her grip.
She sat back and smiled at me. “Sorry, but I had to check.”
“Check what?”
“That you weren’t a Host. The only way my sister would start talking like that was if an invading spirit took over her body.”
“Very funny,” I said sarcastically as Milo rolled over in the air in a fit of cackling.
Hannah’s grin faded quickly. She turned to Milo and waited for his laughter to subside. “What do you think, Mr. Spirit Guide?”
Milo sobered up at once. “In a stunning plot twist, I agree with Jess. You would kick ass on that Council. Obviously, it would cause an uproar, but sometimes you have to shake things up to make a real difference.”
“There will be pitchforks,” Hannah said with a wry laugh.
“We stared into the jaws of the afterlife itself and won. I think we can handle a few pitchforks,” I said.
“I hear pitchforks are the hottest new winter accessory,” Milo added brightly. “They’re basically the new oversized sunglasses.”
Hannah looked from me to Milo and then shrugged helplessly. “Okay. I don’t know why I ever listen to either of you, but I’ll do it.” Then she pulled us into an awkward, three-way hug that I quickly had to squirm out of, because hugging Milo was like hugging an ice sculpture.
“Okay, then,” I said. “That’s decided. Let’s throw this place into chaos again. It’s what we do best.”
§
As we sat in silence by the fire, I stared out the windows at the whirling snowstorm outside, my eyes fixed on the horizon for the sight of the car that would bring Karen to the castle. And as I waited, I cradled Eleanora’s little book in the crook of my arm, running my finger backward and forward over its spine like I could bring it—and her—some comfort from my touch. I had carried it with me ever since her Crossing, as though the weight of it was something that I ought to bear—like I owed it to her. It was she, more than anyone else, that had helped me reach the decision to stay at Fairhaven. And there was still a mystery to solve there, one that I hoped Fiona could help me with. I did not know how I had come to create the sketches of Eleanora. If she had not reached out to me, where had the images come from? It felt crucial to my understanding of my own gift as a Muse that I figure it out.
Hannah had told me once that she thought I liked trouble. It was becoming clearer by the day that she was right. Though I felt we were making the right decision, there was no doubt that it was going to be a difficult road, with no guarantee that we would succeed. Karen and the other Council members would likely try to dissuade us from our course. Marion would certainly try to thwart us at every step. And Finn… there was no doubt that staying at Fairhaven would force us to a crossroads in our relationship. But wasn’t it better to make the choice to fight for us, to proudly stand together in the sunlight, hand in hand, rather than always hiding in the shadows?
In my heart, I thought I knew the answer to that question, and so I’d chosen my path. Now all I could do was hope that Finn would choose to walk beside me.
The story continues in Awakening of the Seer: The Gateway Trackers Book 3.
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About the Author
E.E. Holmes is a writer, teacher, and actor living in central Massachusetts with her husband, two children, and a small, but surprisingly loud dog. When not writing, she enjoys performing, watching unhealthy amounts of British television, and reading with her children.
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