Key to the Journey (The Chronicles of Hawthorn, Book 2)

by Rue

  Oturu pushed a picture of Hazel to Flynn’s mind.

  “It hasn’t worked yet, but I’ll to try to reach Hazel. I have to see if she’s all right. I should have received word from Pounamu—it doesn’t make sense.” Flynn still wore Hazel’s tunic—ripped and dirty after the day’s adventure. She touched the fabric and thought of her best human friend.

  The campsite flickered out and a room solidified around her. It worked! Flynn peered around and noticed that everything looked too familiar. This is my room. She thought she had failed, when she noticed a lump in her bed. Worried that she had traveled through time again and somehow was looking at herself in her own bed—Flynn slowly approached the body. She reached out and carefully pulled back the blanket. Blonde curls spilled across the pillow. “Hazel? Hazel, what are you doing in my bed?”

  Hazel did not stir.

  Flynn could not believe the Mother Goddess would finally allow her to astral travel back to Moa Bend, only to find her friend asleep. Everyone knows it is impossible to wake up Hazel. She would have to resort to extreme measures.

  She saw a small cup of water on the nightstand. Focusing her mind on holding the cup, she picked it up and poured the water on Hazel’s head.

  Hazel sat up sputtering and flapping her hands like a hummingbird’s wings.

  “Hazel, it’s me. Can you hear me?”

  She instantly froze. Hazel sat perfectly still and let her eyes dart toward the sound. “Flynn!” She jumped up from the bed and threw her arms around—nothing.

  “I’m not actually here, Hazel, but I need your help.” Flynn prepared to make a long, convincing speech. “I know you probably don’t want to take any more adventures after that horrible experience in Dream—”

  “I’d love to get out of here. The Grand Coven agreed to keep you in the levels, but they want to move us both to Level Four after Winter Solstice, so your mother has taken me on as some kind of special project. I barely see my family anymore, I’m practicing karakia with Master Cabot every day, and I spend most nights in your bed. I think your mother must be missing you and she’s just keeping me around so she doesn’t worry.”

  Eventually Hazel stopped to breathe, and Flynn jumped into the brief opening. “I found my father’s trunk and I need help getting it home. I’m camped at the edge of the Ruins of Manaina,” she looked down and continued, “and if you can see this tunic, I’m sorry and I’ll replace it.”

  Hazel’s fingertips were tapping together in a staccato rhythm before Flynn finished speaking, and she apparently couldn’t have cared less about the tunic. “I can leave tonight. I’ll grab some mango stuffed sweet rolls, your grandmother won’t stop making them, and I’ll load Mr. Mango up with some waterskins,” Hazel stopped to run some silent calculation. “I should get to you before dawn.”

  “Hazel, aren’t you afraid to travel at night?” Flynn worried that her friend might actually be a little fogged with sleep.

  “What? Walking through the whole of Aotearoa in a blinding thunderstorm couldn’t possibly be as terrifying as one night in that forsaken forest.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “You’re my best friend, Flynn. I’d do anything for you.”

  “My mother’s bow and a quiver of arrows are in the corner of the main room, please at least take that,” Flynn begged.

  “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but I can use my magick, remember?” Hazel looked wistfully at the astral projection of her friend.

  “Oh, right! So, what are you waiting for? Horohoro, hurry to the stable, showoff.” Flynn laughed and her burden lifted. Hazel would be by her side by morning.

  She had survived.

  Her Seeking had ended.

  The joy of waking up to Hazel’s big blue eyes could only be topped by the ecstasy of one of Nana Kapowai’s sweet rolls for breakfast. Oturu clicked her beak hungrily between each bite Flynn fed her.

  “Well, I guess I better watch out that Nana doesn’t steal you away,” joked Flynn.

  Oturu tilted her head and shook it vigorously.

  “I’m only making a joke, Oturu. No one can separate us, not after everything we’ve been through. In fact, I’ll come and get you from your mew at the moa nursery every morning—before breakfast, all right?” asked Flynn.

  “Oh, you won’t have to do that because—” Hazel clamped her own hand over her mouth. “Never mind. You’ll see soon enough.”

  “How do you expect me to forget what you almost blurted?” teased Flynn.

  “I’m sure you can keep yourself occupied by telling me all about your Seeking on the way back—the real story—not the version you plan to tell your mother,” insisted Hazel.

  Flynn smiled as her eyes wandered toward the cliffs and the memories of her adventure. She gathered up her meager belongings and they secured the trunk to Mr. Mango’s back. The odd group of humans and birds walked toward the east and the rising sun.

  The tale of Flynn’s journey had occupied the early morning hours and Hazel held Mr. Mango’s lead while she filled the subsequent silence humming a bit of Witch’s Kettle under her breath. “Flynn, do you see that marker? I stacked those stones next to the river when I reached about a half a day from Moa Bend. We’ll be home before midday, I think. I’m adding some time since we’re probably walking slower because of the trunk and, well, you’re carrying the falcon. So, it—”

  Flynn interrupted Hazel’s flow with a loud chuckle. “I forgot how much I missed the sound of your voice.”

  “And I forgot how much I missed your interruptions,” Hazel scrunched up her face and for the blink of an eye she actually looked upset. “I really did miss you, though. I mean I can only take so much of Po. He’s so excitable.”

  Oturu let out a series of short calls and Flynn nodded in agreement.

  “Hey, I thought you two promised not to speak your secret language in front of me,” reminded Hazel.

  “Sorry, Oturu agrees with you.” Flynn didn’t have the heart to tell Hazel that Oturu thought Po was the least excitable of Flynn’s two friends.

  Without warning Oturu launched from the cadge on Flynn’s shoulder and flew high into the air.

  Flynn received a picture of someone approaching—running fast and headed straight for her and Hazel. “Someone’s coming. I think we better find some cover near the river. I don’t want Oturu to fly any closer and I can’t tell who it is from her current height.”

  Hazel nodded and pulled Mr. Mango toward the thick underbrush. “How do you communicate with—never mind, we’ll talk about it later,” she whispered.

  Flynn nodded at the prudent suggestion to wait until the threat passed.

  The girls tucked themselves into a nice thicket of willow and manuka. It wasn’t easy to hide the enormous Mr. Mango, but once they got him and the trunk that he carried tucked into the bush, his neck could easily blend with the surrounding tree trunks.

  Oturu silently coasted into a branch near the top of the tree.

  They all waited.

  Finally, Flynn heard the approaching footsteps. She held her breath.

  Oturu cried out and Flynn grinned at an image of Po running and panting as if pursued. “It’s Po,” she said to Hazel.

  “That figures,” replied Hazel.

  They stepped out of the thicket and Flynn called out, “Po, over here.”

  He turned sharply and held up his hand while he caught his breath.

  Flynn handed him her waterskin and he gulped several mouthfuls.

  He looked at the large trunk on Mr. Mango’s back and nodded, “We’ll have to take that off. Hazel and I can carry it back.”

  Flynn looked at the precious trunk and shook her head. “I can’t leave that Po, it’s my father’s.”

  Po raised one eyebrow and nodded. “You have to, Flynn. The Priestess of Aura Falls came to challenge your mother’s place.”

  “What?” Flynn couldn’t comprehend Po’s message. The eldest daughter of the Hawthorn bloodline had held the rank of High Priestess of Aotearoa since be
fore they were known as Hawthorn—since before the breaking of The Book of Shadow and Light. “The Grand Coven will laugh her out of Moa Bend.”

  Po shook his head.

  Hazel chimed in, “The rank of High Priestess can’t be challenged by one village—”

  “The Priestesses of Piper Run and Vigna Narrows have joined the call,” Po interrupted Hazel’s recitation of facts.

  Flynn felt the anger flare in Oturu before she felt it in her own heart. “That is why the falconers gave an insult instead of a token of honor at the Winter Solstice,” she mumbled.

  Po and Hazel exchanged a confused look.

  “What do you mean, Flynn?” Hazel’s curiosity couldn’t wait.

  Oturu glided down to Flynn’s shoulder and nudged her.

  She interpreted the nudge as permission to tell Oturu’s story. She quickly shared the falcon’s fear of blood and inability to hunt. But she also gave the bird fervent praise for saving her life, her assistance in finding the trunk, and her protection at night. She wanted to tell them about how the Priestess of Piper Run had driven Ash and Kano from the village by refusing to protect them from her own abusive son, but that story belonged to Ash.

  “Pounamu was right,” whispered Flynn. “The stain of the shadow is creeping through the mist.”

  Hazel nodded.

  “The Priestess of Aura Falls claims her daughter can defeat Magdelana and claims you disappeared because you’re a Watcher and can never save Aotearoa,” Po said the last bit with anger and defensiveness. “I don’t believe her. I know what I saw. I’d follow you into a volcano, eh?”

  Flynn smiled at his reference to their joke about his moa, but that moment before Hazel’s rescue seemed like another lifetime. “Who does believe her?” asked Flynn.

  “From what I could hear, nearly half the Grand Coven,” said Po. “My ma stands with Kahu,” he added proudly.

  “Who else supports the High Priestess?” asked Hazel, fingers tapping.

  “Cabot, Windemere, Sorrel, Adriana, and Rehia stand with the High Priestess,” Po added.

  “Flynn, you have to take Mr. Mango and race back to the Meeting House. Show that Aura Falls witch what you can do!” Hazel’s pale blue eyes crackled with challenge.

  “But what can I do? Disappear? That won’t prove anything,” Flynn hung her head.

  “Astral travel to Aura Falls and find something to cast doubt on Anise’s mother,” Hazel said as she tapped her fingertips together frantically.

  “You’re a little terrifying right now, Hazel.” Flynn nodded admiringly at her friend. “The problem is I’m not exactly sure how I travel. I had your tunic in Dreamwood and I had my father’s key—never mind. I think I need something to guide me to the person or place, maybe.”

  Hazel abruptly stopped tapping her fingers and stared at Flynn. “What did you say is in the trunk?”

  “I didn’t look at everything. Mostly maps and that letter I’m going to let my mother open—Southeil!” Flynn shouted the name of the Shadow Coven’s land.

  “There’s a map of Southeil?” Hazel’s eyes sparkled with a plan.

  “Yes, but showing them a map won’t prove I can save our people.” Flynn shook her head hopelessly.

  “No, but if you can astral travel to Southeil and give the Grand Coven some information about Magdelana’s plan—they’ll strip that Aura Falls witch of her wand before the sun sets.” Hazel clapped her hands together with a sting of finality.

  Flynn swallowed loudly. She slipped the chain holding the key from around her neck and took a deep shaky breath. “Po, can you bring the trunk down?”

  He loosened the ties and lowered the trunk to the ground.

  They all held their breath without realizing while Flynn turned the key in the lock.

  CLICK!

  She creaked the top open and removed the map of Southeil. Flynn carefully rolled it and slipped it into her satchel before she closed the trunk, secured the lock, and shrugged her shoulders.

  Po laced his fingers together and gave Flynn a boost onto Mr. Mango’s back.

  She looked down at her friends and smiled weakly. “Hurry, please. If this plan fails…”

  Po nodded and gave Mr. Mango the signal for speed. The giant moa lunged forward and Oturu took to the sky with a battle cry.

  “You can do this!” Hazel shouted after the speeding trio.

  Po picked up one end of the trunk. “It’s lighter than I thought,” he said.

  “Tere,” Hazel said. The trunk floated in midair. She took a piece of braided flax from her satchel and tied it to the good handle. “I’ll think you’ll find it’s lighter than air.” She smiled and handed the cord to Po.

  He gave a light tug and the trunk easily floated toward him. “Race ya,” he yelled as he ran toward Moa Bend.

  Flynn saw Moa Bend—from above. She blinked, blinked again, and still the crystal clear falcon’s-eye view of her village did not end. Somehow, somewhere in their Seeking, Flynn and Oturu had completed their bonding. She could see what the falcon saw. The time to celebrate their accomplishment would come later, after she put an end to this nonsense from the Aura Falls witch.

  They were minutes from the Meeting House and Flynn wished she had a better plan. Walk in and astral travel—it seemed a little anticlimactic.

  The more she thought about it the more her mind raced. She knew that she would be hopelessly distracted and unable to connect to her magick if she lost her focus.

  She also knew the moa would run directly to the stable without any guidance. So, she closed her eyes and followed her breath in and out of her body. She pictured the sun setting into the mist from the Cliffs of Tapu.

  She felt the key around her neck.

  She remembered the feel of Dunedin’s feather in her hand and her mother’s bright smile.

  So it will be.

  The message came from outside of her. Perhaps it came from Dunedin, she couldn’t be sure, but she felt peace in her mind. She knew the web of her destiny wove a path beyond today. That was enough.

  She opened her eyes and saw the Ceremonial Lawn fading from rich greens to the tans and browns of autumn. Her hand went to Mr. Mango’s neck and she signaled him to stop.

  Her feet landed firmly on the dirt road and she ran to the Meeting House.

  The raised voices reached her before she passed through the gate of the marae. No one would hear her arrival.

  Flynn slipped off her sandals, took one last free breath of air, and strode past the Arei guarding the entrance and into the gathering.

  Anise Aura immediately saw Flynn. She instantly rose to her feet and her eyes revealed the conflict in her heart. Sit back down or fight?

  A deadly silence fell on the gathering.

  All eyes turned to Flynn. Her skin was deeply browned, her clothing tattered and torn, and her sleek black hair held the dust of the world in its braid.

  She dropped to one knee and pressed the thumb of her right fist to her forehead. “I have returned, my Priestess.”

  Kahu used every bit of her magick to school her features to a look of knowing and bury the tears deep in her heart. Her child had returned—alive, and with a power in her that had not been there before. “Welcome, Flynn. What news of your Seeking?”

  “I have much to tell you, my Priestess, but I don’t want to interrupt this villager’s petition.” Flynn kept her face stoic, but she suspected the use of such a common term would anger the Priestess from Aura Falls.

  Kahu could not keep the flash of mirth from her features.

  “I am no villager, Watcher. I am Aubrielle Aura the Priestess of Aura Falls and I am here to put an end to this ruse.” She gestured from Kahu back to Flynn.

  Flynn did not reply. She sent an image to Oturu and the majestic bird screeched into the Meeting House and landed gracefully on Flynn’s shoulder.

  Gasps and murmurs swept through the Grand Coven.

  “Tricks to amuse children,” sneered Aubrielle. “Any Vignan boy can call a falcon.” She
turned to Kahu. “When will you admit you have no heir to the wand and relinquish your rank so that someone with a true witch for a daughter can save our people from Magdelana?”

  “You wish to know more of Magdelana?” Flynn walked past Aubrielle and placed the roll of paper on the table in front of Kahu. She slowly unfurled the map and when she had revealed the full image, she waited for a response that did not come.

  Aubrielle looked over her shoulder. “What is this nonsense, Watcher?”

  Flynn looked at the map and up at her mother.

  Kahu shook her head. “Can you read these markings, Flynn?”

  “Of course, can’t you?” she replied.

  Several of the members of the Coven of the Sacred Wood stood and stared at the squiggles on the page and shook their heads.

  “What is this, Flynn?” asked Kahu.

  “This is a map of Southeil.” Flynn took a deep breath before she continued. “Dunedin led me to it on my Seeking. I can use this to find The Book of Shadow.”

  Aubrielle gave a start at the mention of the missing half of the sacred tome. “More lies from the Watcher. My daughter—”

  “Be seated,” Kahu spoke the words and Aubrielle slid across the floor and plunked down onto the bench next to her daughter.

  “How?” Kahu looked at her daughter with a flicker of desperation in her eyes.

  “I need a moment, and quiet,” said Flynn.

  Kahu motioned for the Mistresses and Masters to take their seats.

  Flynn looked at the map and felt her gaze pulled toward the Caves of Matamoe. She placed her finger on those words and closed her eyes.

  Nothing.

  She felt a panic rise in her chest and she could hear her own blood pounding in her ears. Everyone watching. Her mother’s rank called into question. The witch of Aura Falls challenging her birthright.

  Focus. Focus, Flynn. She followed her breath.

  In and out.