The Awakening

by H. D. Gordon

  I raised my eyebrows.

  Roo half smiled in a way that was almost a grimace. “On the field that tried to eat me.”

  We waited until darkness fell.

  Then we slipped out of our dorm, careful not to wake Genie, and into the quiet halls of the Academy.

  The place was different at night. Without the bustle of students and the sun slanting through the high windows, there was only the flickering emerald glow of the torches to light the way. As we made our way through the hallways and down to the foyer, I wondered what the punishment for sneaking out after curfew was, and decided it didn’t matter now, anyway.

  We almost made it out the door and into the darkness when a low, deep voice stopped us.

  “What are you doing?”

  Roo and I paused in our tracks.

  Erasmus peeled away from a nook in the wall, and now stood between us and the door to the outside.

  Roo glanced at me, and I considered lying for a moment before deciding upon the opposite.

  “To the Sphera field,” I said.

  Erasmus studied us for a moment, sharp blue eyes going from me to Roo and back again. “It’s after curfew,” he replied.

  I heard Roo mumble, “No, shit, Sherlock,” under her breath, but chose to ignore it. Luckily, so did Raz.

  I met his gaze. “I know,” I said.

  I prepared myself for his order to return to our room, but instead, Erasmus glanced around. “We better be quick, then,” he whispered.

  My eyebrows shot up. “We?”

  Raz blinked at me as if he didn’t know why I was surprised. Shrugging, I pushed by him—trying to ignore the familiar scent of salt water and pine—and out the door. Roo and Raz followed on my heels. We snuck across the vast lawn of the Academy and through the dark like thieves in the night.

  When we made it to the field, I heaved a small sigh of relief.

  “Now what?” I said.

  Roo was busy staring at the spot in the earth that had cleaved open, nearly swallowing her up. Though the ground had closed back up, the break of its opening still split across the felid like a scar upon green skin.

  “Look around,” Raz said. “Open up your senses and see what you can find.”

  I nodded as if that made complete sense.

  The night was silent, the tall pines around the edges of the property the only witnesses to our search. I was just about to give up when something shiny caught the moonlight, along with my attention.

  Drawn toward it, I bent to examine the object, which was just barely sticking out of the earth along the edge of the newly sealed crack through which Roo had fallen.

  Reaching down, I plucked it out of the earth, holding it up in the moonlight.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin when Erasmus spoke from right beside me. “A Talis coin,” he said, deep voice low and near enough to make me fight a shiver.

  “Goddess,” I replied at his sudden appearance. “I need to put a bell around your neck.”

  Roo wandered over to see what we were looking at. “What’s a Talis coin?” she asked.

  Raz’s eyes were narrowed, his posture rigid. “They can hold a powerful burst of magic. Once the magic is spent, the coin can be re-charmed.” He held his hand out and I placed the coin in it. Holding it up, he added, “This was likely what caused the ground to split.”

  I stared at the coin, wondering at how something so small could pack such a punch.

  “Great,” Roo said. “So we know the incident was deliberate, but we still don’t know who was responsible.”

  “No,” Raz agreed, still clutching the coin between his fingers. “But I know how we can find out.”

  22

  “I’m not getting on that thing,” Roo said, crossing her arms.

  Zar the griffon’s head cocked, sharp golden eyes flicking from me to Roo, feathers ruffling, as if he could understand what Roo was saying.

  I approached the creature and ran a hand through the thick, soft fur on its back, noticing that Raz was watching me, if pretending not to be. To my delight, the giant lion-bird leaned into my touch.

  “Zar is cool, Roo,” I promised. “You know I’d never put you in danger.”

  “We could travel by foot,” Raz said, slinging a sack over Zar’s back and strapping it down near the saddle. “But it would take us half a day through treacherous lands.”

  Roo pursed her lips. “My choices are flying on a lion-bird or hiking through treachery?”

  Raz’s head tilted in a Zar-like manner. “Pretty much,” he said.

  Moments later, we were sitting astride Zar, with me positioned between Roo and Raz. My little sister gripped the arm I held around her waist. She was usually so fearless that her nerves at the prospect of flying atop Zar made me smile a little.

  Zar bent his powerful legs, wings flaring, muscles in his tawny back flexing, and shot forward. Roo let out a yelp, and before she could draw another breath, we were airborne.

  I held onto Roo as the wind whipped our hair. Raz kept one thick arm around my waist. Zar sailed through the night like a shooting star, as much a part of the sky as the moon and the stars.

  If I’d thought the sight from up here was magical before, it was nothing next to the sight now. There was no light pollution this deep into the Pine Barrens, so every star in the sky was visible, making for a tapestry of constellations. The air was cool but not unpleasant, the scent of the pines and the ocean to the east similar to that of Erasmus, who was warm and steady behind me.

  “You have to open your eyes,” I told Roo, and could almost feel the half smile on Raz’s face as I did so.

  Roo shook her head.

  I chuckled. “Just do it.”

  “This isn’t a Nike commercial,” she replied through gritted teeth.

  I sighed, and with a little more prodding, Roo peeled her eyes opened…and gasped at the wonder of it all.

  “Okay,” she said after a while. “This is pretty amazing.”

  As if to punctuate the point, Zar let out a half roar, half caw and shot forward even faster. Roo’s responding yelp was drowned out by my laughter.

  We flew for a while, passing over the sea of shadows that was the forest until I spotted a mountain range in the distance. Something swirled low in my belly, a sense of foreboding, and I shivered against it.

  “You okay?” Raz’s deep voice whispered in my ear.

  I nodded, and tried not to blush at the way Raz’s arm tightened a bit around my waist.

  As we drew closer to the mountain, however, the feeling of foreboding increased, and from the way she tensed, I could tell Roo felt it, too.

  “What is that place?” I asked Raz when it became clear the mountain was where we were heading, speaking loudly to be heard over the wind.

  “It’s a mountain range,” Raz said.

  Roo laughed at this response, and the droll way in which Raz spoke it.

  Raz continued, “It’s part of the Blue Ridge Mountain Range, but it’s what’s inside that we’re after.”

  I rose to the bait. “What’s inside?”

  Raz’s voice deepened in a way that both scared and excited me. “One of the few places on this side of the continent where one can obtain a Talis coin,” he answered.

  We landed at the base of a rolling range of mountains, deep within pine country, where nature still held its grasp on the land.

  The air was different here, fresher and greener, the towering trees hugging the foothills creating a physical barrier between us and the rest of the world. Smaller woodland creatures went scurrying in every direction as Zar crashed through the canopy and made his landing in a small clearing within the forest.

  Roo wasted no time dismounting. I followed suit, Erasmus doing the same.

  “We have to go on foot from here,” Raz said, patting Zar on the shoulder before heading toward the rocky wall before us.

  With the shadows of night still holding fast, the world around us was dark and silent save for the occasional hoot of an owl
and the gentle whisper of wind through the boughs.

  Roo and I exchanged a look before hurrying to catch up with Raz, who adjusted the bow and quiver over his shoulders, which were a tad more tense than normal. The change was so slight that I doubted anyone but me would notice.

  “What are we walking into?” I asked as we caught up with him.

  “It’s a black market of sorts,” Raz answered, still heading straight at the rock face. “For the magical realms.”

  “How do we…?” Roo asked as we reached the rocks, but didn’t finish, because as we stepped up, an entrance appeared.

  The rock face shifted, revealing deep darkness inside.

  Roo sighed. “In the history of forever, has any good ever come from entering a dark, butthole-like orifice?”

  I sputtered a chuckle at this, and then another at the look on Raz’s face, but there were nerves beneath my amusement. The place had a feel, and it was not welcoming.

  “Stay close,” Raz said, and led us inside.

  At first, there was only darkness.

  The passageway into the mountain was tight and cool, the scent of damp rock filling the air. Pulling up some of the lessons I’d picked up at the Academy, I casted a light orb and set it to hang in the air in front of me. Its glowing violet flare lit the way.

  “Deeper into the butthole we go,” Roo mumbled.

  Raz raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. We wound deeper and deeper into the mountain, the ground sloping downward at a slight angle. I fought off the sense of claustrophobia trying to sneak in with the close quarters, the dark now stretching both ahead and behind.

  A little further on, the tunnel opened up to reveal a massive cavern. The ceiling was so high that I had to crane my neck back to look at the stalactites that hung like enormous icicles. On the ground, their counterparts—stalagmites—sprouted in huge columns that rose all the way to the ceiling at some points. They glittered like diamonds, the surfaces catching the light and dancing.

  The natural cavern alone would have been a sight, but the bustling marketplace within was what captivated me. Rows and rows of colorful tents went on for as far as the eye could see, their vendors selling wares as exotic as the creatures roaming among them.

  The creatures—there was no other way to describe them. It was one thing to find out I was a witch; it was another thing to discover that there was an entire world beyond the one I knew. The implications of this had been too large to fathom, but seeing it face-to-face had a way of knocking the truth into you.

  “Try not to stare,” Raz whispered to Roo and me as we made our way into the fray.

  I snapped my mouth shut and averted my eyes from a person with sparkling aqua-blue skin and long silver hair. His beauty and otherness, along with the fluid way he moved, were utterly striking.

  “Jinn,” Raz said in a low voice, answering my unspoken question.

  I blushed when the Jinn male—shirtless and with muscles for days—winked at me and slipped through the tents and out of sight.

  More wonders abounded around every corner. A pack of wolf pups ran through the place, bounding from here to there like pinballs, a muscular woman chasing after them with a broom raised high above her head, people shaking their heads or chuckling as the group bolted past.

  Vendors called out to us from both sides as we progressed deeper into the massive cavern, shoving fine fabrics and various items into our path as if that should entice a sale. Our little trio stuck close together, Raz leading us through with unyielding purpose. The vendors took a look at him—so large and imposing with that ever inscrutable look upon his face—and sensed that Roo and I were the easier targets.

  The smell of roasting meats and sugary treats filled the air, along with music unlike any I’d ever heard coming from some not-too-distant corner. The urge to stop at some of the tents and take a peek at what might be inside was strong, but Raz moved at such a clip that we would lose him in the crowd if we chose to linger.

  Eventually, we came to a black tent that was set away from most of the rest, tucked into a little alcove in the cavern that somehow managed to look seedy in its loneliness. Roo and I exchanged a glance as Raz headed for the black tent, bracing ourselves for whatever waited inside.

  The air was sucked out of me as soon as I passed beyond the onyx tent flap, my eyes darting around in an attempt to process what they were now seeing.

  It was as though we’d passed through a void and entered a pocket in space and time, as if the plane we now occupied orbited on a different axis than the one I’d always known. It was dark as a never-ending night, and quiet, as though not even the wind dared whisper here.

  A vast, rocky landscape spread out before us, the edges of which were not visible beyond the shadows. In the center of our line of sight sat a hunched figure, a raggedy cloak over its shoulders. The figure floated a few inches over the ground, legs folded beneath it, a ruby red rug laid out upon the rocky ground below as if for some strange picnic.

  The set of Raz’s shoulders and the strange feel of the place had my heartbeat picking up in pace, my eyes locked on the cloaked figure. The three of us approached the way one might a sleeping lion—slowly and with caution.

  “Princessssessssss,” spoke a voice originating from seemingly everywhere, as if carried on the phantom wind.

  I scooted a little closer to Roo, magic tingling under my skin, perking up at the almost threatening tone in which the word was spoken. I half expected Raz to speak for us, but appreciated it when he glanced at me to see if I’d like to respond for myself.

  “Who are you?” I asked the figure.

  The hood shifted back to reveal a crone so old that her skin seemed like folded gray leather. A crooked smile missing several front teeth, and scraggily gray hair had me swallowing back a grimace. She looked like the kind of creature that lured kids to her house of candy in the forest and fattened them up for supper.

  “A servant,” replied the crone, black eyes flicking from Roo to me and back again, sharp as a knife despite her appearance. “And you are the heirs to the Aldainaire bloodline.”

  “Now that we’ve passed introductions,” Roo said, and nudged Raz.

  Raz held up the Talis coin. “Who did you create this for?” he asked.

  The crone extended her hand. He placed the coin in her palm.

  “How do you know I created it?” she crooned, eyeing Erasmus in a way that made me want to scowl, sharp, inky-black eyes roaming slowly over every inch of him.

  “Don’t play games with us, Ruthynan,” Raz replied.

  I blinked, wondering how Raz knew her, but decided to save my questions for later.

  “It was a favor for Evelyn, of course,” Ruthynan answered.

  Raz held her gaze, waited.

  The crone said, “You want to know who planted it for her. Who betrayed your precious princesses at your precious academy.”

  “Well, duh,” Roo replied.

  The crone shot her a look that made my hackles rise before turning her attention back to Erasmus. She was silent a moment, but then, she shrugged.

  “The girl’s name is Candy,” she answered, gaze flicking to Roo and me. “I believe you know her.”

  I blinked, the name taking a moment to process. Candy? She couldn’t mean the girl who sat with us at lunch, who had Brews class with me and played Sphera with Roo. Why would Candy do such a thing?

  I was getting ready to ask when Raz asked a question of his own.

  “You never give answers away without exacting a toll,” Raz said, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. “Why did you tell us?”

  The crone smiled, revealing her broken grill and the menace behind it.

  “Because you won’t be leaving here alive,” she said.

  23

  “Because you won’t be leaving here alive.”

  There was hardly a heartbeat between these words and the explosion that lifted me off my feet and sent me flying. Blinding light replaced the encompassing darkness of the place, accomp
anied by a ringing in my ears, completely disorienting me.

  I landed in a heap upon an unforgiving surface, the air knocked out of my lungs, pain shooting up my tailbone where it struck the rocks. I tasted blood in my mouth and had to fight off a wave of panic that threatened to overcome me, blinking to clear my vision, teeth gritted against the pain.

  As my vision cleared, I saw that Roo and Erasmus were in much the same state, struggling to sit up after the blast.

  Then my eyes settled on the source of the thrumming power that was becoming so thick it was hard to breathe through.

  The old crone was gone, and standing over us now, with lips as red as blood and teeth as white as bone, was Mother Eve.

  “I knew you’d come,” said the white haired witch. “Right into my trap like flies in a web.”

  There was nothing I could do against the fear that seized me. I’d been awestruck when digging into my own well of magic, but Mother Eve’s was so intense that it was all-consuming. I could sense so many different lines of power emanating from her, all feeding a central core that was too bright to look at. She glowed in its glory, terribly beautiful and full of youthful energy, hawk-like attention focused on me and my sister.

  This awareness had me struggling to my feet. The effort it took was Herculean.

  Then the draining began.

  Mother Eve wasted no more words, no more time. She had indeed trapped us like flies in her spider’s web. I struggled to move and found that I could not take a step, could not lift a finger. A glance at Raz and Roo proved they were experiencing the same.

  A low groan escaped me, the pulling from Mother Eve intensifying until it felt as though the very marrow was being sapped from my bones. The pressure to succumb pressed down on me, threatening to drive me to my knees. Now I was not groaning, but crying out, the sound mingling with Roo’s matching cries of agony.

  Only Raz was not making a sound, but the pain he was feeling was evident on his face. His handsome features were twisted in agony, the muscles in his arms and neck bulging as he fought against Mother Eve’s vice-like hold.