by Lizzy Ford
Spring Rain
#4, Witchling Series
By Lizzy Ford
LizzyFord.com
Published by Evatopia Press
www.Evatopia.com
Cover design by Eden Crane, Eden Crane Design
www.EdenCraneDesign.com
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Smashwords Edition
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Spring Rain copyright ©2015 by Lizzy Ford
LizzyFord.com
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Cover design copyright © 2015 by Eden Crane Design
www.EdenCraneDesign.com
All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
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This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
Chapter One
Beck Turner, the Master and Protector of Light, lifted his hands from the ground and leaned back. Earth magick flowed through his body, its low hum and grumbling whisper soothing the emotions he thought would never leave him in peace. The early spring day was sunny and warm, around forty degrees, practically a heat wave after the frigid winter. He wore a t-shirt and snow pants to keep his legs warm and dry while kneeling in a thin layer of snow. Tree branches dripped with melting ice to create puddles around him. In the distance, the racing stream near the home in the forest he’d adopted after the events of December sounded close to overflowing.
This is how it’s supposed to be. He breathed in deeply and released the air slowly. He was one with his element, his focus on the real issue of importance in his life: saving the Light. Three solid months of grueling work had seen the source of Light beneath the boarding school in northern Idaho begin to heal itself – and expand. The gains were tentative, about three feet total, and he had no idea if they’d last if a Dark student or worse, his brother, the Master of Dark, set foot on campus.
But for now, the weeks of sleepless nights, days spent recruiting Light students from all over the globe, and his self-imposed exile were working. His sole purpose in life was to save the Light, and he was winning, however brittle his victory might eventually turn out to be.
He remained despite his weariness, not wanting to break the connection with his element. It was so much easier to see beyond himself when he was synced with the earth. None of the crippling emotions that plagued him during the rest of his day and night were present.
His twin’s approach was like a sudden shadow covering the sun. Beck shivered inadvertently as the temperature around him dropped several degrees. He blinked out of his stupor.
“I can wait,” Decker said softly from several feet behind him.
Beck glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to the ground. His hands were imprinted in the snow. He had the urge to replace them in their chilly molds, to disappear once more into the warm magick of the earth.
He was getting stronger. He no longer needed direct contact to see the images sent to him by the earth. The visions used to be fragmented and confusing, but that had changed gradually as he spent more time with the Light and his magick.
With Decker and his chilling Darkness so close, the magick wore off faster, and a familiar ache filled Beck’s chest, along with fatigue and the turmoil of his thoughts.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “I’m done for now.” Pushing himself to his feet, he faced Decker. His lean twin was just over six feet with caramel skin and dark hair. He wore all black, and his Darkness clung to him, a stark contrast against the white snow. Decker stood a foot from the edge of the Light out of respect for his brother’s fledgling domain.
Beck looked away without talking to his twin and started back towards his refuge. While he was the Master of Light and his duty saw him with the Light most days, he chose to sleep away from the source of goodness in the world. He told himself it was because of events like this, when his brother came to find him.
But he knew better. He didn’t feel worthy enough to stay with the Light. Light witchlings embodied goodness and purity. Unlike them, he was … flawed. Tainted by mistakes, loss and the knowledge that no amount of magick in the world could heal the part of him that hurt.
“What’s up?” he asked. The earth cleared a path for them through snow, puddles and trees towards the massive tree trunk he had adopted as his. He ducked inside and glanced around. On one side was a small bed loaded with blankets and on the other side a trunk, cupboard, and stools were squeezed within. Decker had brought him groceries, and a tote sat on a low table along one side.
One of the many homes of Sam, the yeti who lived in this part of the forest, Beck had only brought more blankets and a firmer pillow with him when he moved in, with Sam’s permission. He left the rest of his possessions at his parent’s nearby cabin as part of his punishment for not being the man he thought he should be.
The fire was warm against his cold cheeks, and he sat.
“Brought you snacks,” Decker replied. “Dad said you haven’t answered his texts in a few days.” The Master of Dark’s gaze was concerned.
Beck leaned back against one wall. “I’m fine,” he said, answering the unasked question. “Just … busy.”
“Doing good work.”
He nodded.
Decker’s dark gaze lingered on his features. He sat. “The spring equinox is coming up. There’s talk about this gathering being big. Word has leaked about our issue.” Every three months, their parents hosted fetes or other types of gatherings centered around the dates of solstices and equinoxes, brief periods of power that beckoned to witchlings whose magick was tied to the elements. For the last winter solstice, there had been a charity ball. For the spring equinox, they usually hosted a renewal event of some kind in honor of spring. Beck hadn’t bothered to ask what was happening this year.
“Your issue,” he whispered. No part of him wanted to think about what had happened several months ago. “My only concern is the Light.”
“And your daughter.”
Beck rubbed his face. He was too tired to argue with his brother and instead, dug around for a candy bar in the bag Decker had brought. The earth’s soothing magick was fading. The ache in his chest began to turn into outright pain. Even the earth couldn’t heal this kind of suffering the way it could physical ailments.
“You need to rest, Beck.” Decker’s tone was gentler.
“Has Summer taught you some compassion?” Beck grumbled. “Because the twin I know isn’t a nice guy.”
“He still cares about you enough to beat you into unconsciousness if you need sleep!” Decker retorted.
That’s my brother. Beck snorted. He didn’t like his visitors treating him like there was something wrong with him or walking on eggshells. He wanted to be alone with his misery, to watch the rest of the world go on and be happy without him, to be forgotten and left alone.
“Beck, I know what you’re going through. You know that,” Decker added, his familiar agitation causing his shadows to churn around him. “I lost someone I cared about, too. My counterbalance.”
“But yours wasn’t dead,” Beck snapped.
“I thought she was.”
He looked up at the hushed note in Decker’s voice. The haunted look on his twin’s face reminded him of everything they’d both been through when Decker’s girlfriend, Summer, had turn
ed Dark and dove off a cliff. Beck had to keep the secret of her survival to himself for many months while Decker pursued a course of self-destruction.
“I know, Decker,” Beck said. It was no real solace to recall his brother’s agony. If anything, it made Beck hurt more, this time for his twin. “But this is different. It’s not just Morgan. There’s the baby, too.”
He couldn’t act against the Dark witchling who had invited the Darkest of all Dark souls into her body in order to exact revenge on him, not without hurting his own child. The situation with no solution left him helpless and overwhelmed.
Decker said nothing, his shadows calming until they were still once more. They usually made Beck edgy, especially in close quarters. He was too exhausted to care today.
The silence stretched on. Usually the first to mend fences and keep the peace, Beck sighed. “So … no Dawn sightings?”
“None.” Decker’s features grew thoughtful, and Beck sensed he was communicating with his Darkness. “It makes no sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Beck tried hard to suppress the feeling of urgency whenever he considered what had happened to Dawn. The woman was still alive; this much was assumed. The mother of his daughter would come to term in about a month. It was nearly impossible to think that she was managing her pregnancy with no medical support from the doctors in Northern Idaho and without contacting any of her family and friends. Yet no amount of his father’s money or Decker tapping into his Dark domain had found her.
That Decker couldn’t track her, and he was supposed to be able to track all Dark witchlings …
“It’s Bartholomew,” Decker’s voice was hushed. “He’s taught her something or hidden her somehow.”
Beck glanced warily at his twin. Decker not only was charged to prevent the Dark from spreading, but was … well, possessed by the souls of the Masters and Mistresses of Dark that came before him. They lived in his head and were constantly talking to him, usually educating him, except for Bartholomew, who had tried to lure Decker into releasing the Dark completely.
The Master of Light had no such army of dead souls in his head. If anything, Beck desperately needed guidance, and there was no one to provide it, since his predecessor was killed twenty years before. He pitied his brother once again. His heart was too good to be as hard as he wanted it to. Even his brother had a flicker of pure Light. Beck was flawed but compassionate, able to look past the mistakes of others and see the good within them.
Except with myself.
There was no excuse for the Master of Light who failed in his duty to protect those who deserved it, innocents like his daughter and Morgan, the girl he loved.
“The lake thawed enough this week for dad to call in someone to dredge it,” Decker said.
Beck’s breath caught and he stared at the fire at the center of the tree trunk. He thought of Morgan every time his gaze drifted to the flames and how she’d once taken him into the center of a bonfire and showed him how alive the flames really were.
“Did they …” He stopped, his voice breaking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Did they find her?”
“No,” Decker replied. “They found the SUV and … Alexa’s body.” Decker shifted. “That’s my bad.” Alexa had been Dawn’s henchwoman and had tormented both Summer and Morgan and probably a great many more innocent witchlings.
It was as far as Beck could get on the subject. His throat was almost too tight to speak, the muscles of his body aching with sudden tension. He hadn’t been able to bear watching Morgan’s brother, Connor, go through the pain he did. It was another reason for his exile in the forest. More suffering of the innocent that he should have somehow been able to prevent.
“They didn’t find the soul stone either,” Decker added, referring to the rock in Morgan’s possession that had held a piece of pure Dark.
“Maybe Dawn got to it and it’s hiding her.” Beck managed. He forced himself to sip water from a bottle and silently called for the earth to help his tense frame uncoil. Every time he thought of the Fire witchling meant to be his counter balance, he felt even farther from the Light.
“Maybe.” Decker was pensive once more. “I’ve given it some thought. If we could find the soul stone, do you think we could trap Bartholomew again, the way his sons did a thousand years ago?”
“I imagine it’d be much harder since he has no human form this time around. How do you lure a soul out of the body it’s possessing without destroying the vessel?” Beck replied. He, too, had given this and every other scenario he could come up with some thought and returned to the conclusion that nothing was going to work that wouldn’t involve putting his daughter in danger.
“That part I haven’t figured out. But … do you think it’s worth talking to Sam about?”
“I don’t think it matters since the soul stone is gone,” Beck replied. “Is that why you came by? To tell me they hadn’t found anything?”
“No. Dad was worried and wants you involved in the family event for the equinox.”
“I’m not in any shape to deal with people.”
“I see.” Decker motioned to Beck’s scruffy features. “You can sleep in a real bed and eat hot food. Grandpa has cookies.”
The moment he said it, Beck’s stomach growled.
“That’s what I thought,” Decker said with a trace of a smile. “Come, Beck. Please. At least for a couple of days.”
Beck debated. He’d been hiding in the forest since he lost Morgan under the guise of helping the Light. In truth, he didn’t feel any more ready to face the world than he had that agonizing day in December when he saw the SUV she was in sink to the bottom of the lake.
He had found his counterbalance, the witchling that was supposed to help him with the Light, then lost her immediately.
“When is it?” he asked.
“Two days. You can hide out in your room. You need a break, Beck, and a shower.”
Beck smiled. “All right.”
“Your phone on?”
Beck stretched for the phone he had tucked in a box. “No. It’s the first day of sunlight in two weeks. The solar charger is outside.” He motioned to the doorway. “Phone will be charged in a few hours.”
“I’ll tell Dad.” Decker stood. He seemed ready to say something else and changed his mind, leaving without another word.
Beck watched him go. He didn’t want to ponder on what Decker had said about the fact no other bodies had been recovered from the lake. There was a part of him that didn’t think he could ever handle knowing Morgan was truly dead. It was easier for him, at least for now, to live without closure and the slim, crazy hope that maybe, by some miracle like the one that saved Summer, Morgan was still alive.
However stupid it was to think so.
If she is alive, she wants nothing to do with me. Their last interaction almost killed him through no fault of hers when he touched the soul stone. Only a Fire witchling could touch it safely. Morgan had saved his life.
Then died alone, scared, tortured by Dawn and believing he hated her.
She deserved so much better. Her death was yet another of his failings.
Chapter Two
Morgan squeezed the soul stone in her pocket, automatically directing more of her Fire magick to counter the rock that was too cold for a normal human or witchling to touch. Her phone vibrated on the tabletop beside her, and she glanced at it. The warm, fragrant air of a café, combined with the gentle murmur of its patrons and the sound of espresso drinks being created, made her feel almost normal.
He can’t take this much longer, read the text.
Almost. Normal.
Any fragile fragment of peace she managed to eek out of her tedious day vanished. Morgan set down her drink and picked up the cell she’d been given several months before by the same person who texted her.
Decker held the magick of three elements, and in that moment, she could see the impatient Fire element dominating him. She’d stopped using the credit card he gave her but not the
phone, because …
Because some part of her wanted to be found by the guy she’d left behind. She’d even saved his contact in the phone Decker gave her. It used to belong to Summer, and Morgan had deleted everyone’s contact information except for Decker’s and Beck’s. She had renamed Beck’s, though, because seeing his name made her hurt too much.
Whatever was between them was too strong to be natural. She’d come to this conclusion late one night about four weeks ago, after she’d spent her tears and lay waiting for sleep to claim her.
She still missed Beck, and it didn’t make sense that she should after three months of not seeing him. She had barely gotten to know him, having spent only a few precious moments with him and yet, couldn’t let him go like she wanted to so she could move on. If she were someone else, if her situation was different… If she was different and not charged with safeguarding a tool of evil, one that could kill the Master of Light …
No matter how bad things were, she wasn’t able to escape the sense of belonging, the sad instinct that begged her to return to the Master of Light who somehow branded her soul.
Morgan typed the response she always gave Decker. You know this is the right thing to do. Pressing send, she did her best to convince herself it was true.
He responded immediately. You’re Beck’s counterbalance, like it or not. Why aren’t you trying to help us with the Light? He had typed.
“If we ever meet again, Decker, I’ll do more than set your shoes on fire,” Morgan muttered under her breath.
She didn’t understand fully what a counterbalance was supposed to do and why he assumed she was one. True, she couldn’t explain the bond with Beck that wasn’t growing weaker the way it should be if they had a normal relationship.
Glaring at Decker’s response, she had to force herself not to send him an angry response. He was the brother of the man she cared about and had helped her, albeit reluctantly.
Maybe we could use the soul stone to capture Bartholomew, he texted next.
“That’s it, Decker.” Morgan sent him a scathing response and tapped send, not caring if she pissed him off. The stone had been in her family for a thousand years. If it was meant to be used, it wouldn’t be a secret! And the best – and only thing – she knew to do to protect Beck and help him with the Light was to keep as far away as possible.