I grabbed my keys and drove down Main Street, past the elk horn arch. Before I knew it I was heading toward the canyon. It was unusually cold, but the sun sparkled on the snow, lighting up the valley like a thousand twinkling Christmas lights.
When I drove past the burned-out shell of my house, I slowed. Only one blackened wall remained, looming over where the kitchen used to be. Snow blanketed the basement concrete so completely that I could almost pretend the night of the fire was a figment of my imagination. But it did happen—so much had happened since then.
I felt a tug from inside of my chest, like an invisible rope pulling me to where it all had ended. I turned the car around and headed back up to the springs, alone. I needed to say goodbye to Aunt Avril in my own way.
I parked the Vette, smoothing my hand along the orange paint. I couldn’t believe that my aunt would entrust to me one of her prized possessions. Learning that Aunt Avril had willed her Corvette to me was a bright spot in an otherwise difficult day. It made me feel connected to Aunt Avril—like a part of her was still with me.
The funeral had been a bit strange. Not many people in the valley knew Aunt Avril, but the FBI leaked a story that she was killed while in the line of duty and had helped rid the valley of a murderer. The church was full of law enforcement and FBI agents. Before the service even started, I overheard Agent Johnson asking Officer Bassett if he had ever considered a career with the FBI.
We talked about how funny and quirky Aunt Avril was. Mom reminisced about better times and said her tearful goodbyes. For my part, I wore the solo dress Aunt Avril had sewn for me. It was a little bit strange, I knew, but Mom said it made her feel better that someone could carry on Avril’s quirks, as long as I didn’t start hearing voices.
I hiked up the trail to the spring. The cool air cleared my head. As I got closer to the spring, footprints in the snow reminded me of what had taken place in that same canyon only a week earlier.
The stream was empty of water, and there was no trace of the large rock that had fallen on Aunt Avril. It must have been destroyed when they’d moved it. I stood by the bank and waited for the spring to breathe life back into the stream, searching for the spot where Aunt Avril had fallen.
She’s not there.
A voice no louder than a whisper stopped me in my tracks. It sounded like a pleasant old man. I looked in every direction for its source, but all I could see were snow-covered trees and the rocky trail leading up to the springs.
“Who are you?” I said out loud.
I miss her, McKayla.
“Theron?” I asked.
She was there one second . . . and then she was gone.
Theron was talking to me, inside my head. So Aunt Avril really had been talking to him, all this time. It felt horrible to have to break the bad news to him. “I’m sorry, Theron, Avril didn’t make it. She was killed in the battle.”
I’ve been waiting fifteen years for Avril to join me so that we can enter into our rest together. If she had passed, I would know.
Then it hit me. Aunt Avril wasn’t dead.
When the massive rock had fallen on her, there’d been a flash of light. I’d thought it was more of her protective trinkets bursting from the banshee’s attack. She’d been standing in the water when the rock fell. And the casket at the funeral sat empty. Was it possible . . . ?
I saw the energy build up, opening the gateway to another world. But the dead cannot follow. Theron’s voice was filled with despair.
“What are you saying, Theron?” I asked. “That Avril went through the gateway before she died?” My heart leapt within me. She could still be alive.
She needs me.
“What do you want me to do? Go to Tír na nÓg and find her? I can’t just leave. I don’t even know how.”
A rushing sound came from above me on the trail. I scanned the crevice in the mountain where the spring emptied. Water spilled over the ledge and flowed down the waterfall.
Someone is coming. He will help you. Theron’s voice began to fade. Find Avril, McKayla, and bring her back to me.
The water that pooled near the spring opening swirled upward in the air until it formed the rough shape of a person. Then with a pop, the water exploded, leaving the dripping figure of Rourke standing in its place.
When he’d left, Rourke had been wearing jeans, boots, and a pullover jacket. Now he wore the same jeans over his boots, but a poufy white shirt stuck to his wet skin, and a tartan sash draped from one of his shoulders to the opposite side of his waist. Rourke’s stormy eyes swirled with the same mixture of worry and excitement that I had found in them the first night I’d seen him dancing in the gym.
“Rourke!” I yelled, running into the stream.
Rourke smiled and hurried to meet me. All traces of his limp were gone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Christy Dorrity lives in the mountains with her husband, five children, and a cocker spaniel. She grew up on a trout ranch in Star Valley, Wyoming, and is the author of The Geis series for young adults and The Book Blogger’s Cookbooks. Christy is a champion Irish dancer, and when she’s not reading or writing, she’s probably trying out a new recipe in the kitchen.
Sign up to be the first to hear about Christy's new books, and to be notified of promotional offers. http://tinyurl.com/christydorritynewsletter.
Please consider giving Awakening a five star review by clicking on the following link: Review Awakening.
www.christydorrity.com
[email protected]
facebook.com/authorchristydorrity
SUGGESTED READING
Awakening: Book One of The Geis is the beginning of a series combining Irish culture and dance with Celtic mythology. It is a work of contemporary young adult fiction, and is ideal for all audiences with an interest in Irish and Celtic culture. If you enjoyed reading this book, look for the sequel in 2014, where we follow Zoey to Tír na nÓg, the fabled land of youth, to search for her lost sister.
But if you can’t wait for the sequel, here is a list of books Christy thinks you will enjoy.
Christy recommends all books featured in her Book Blogger's Cookbooks:
The 2011 Book Blogger's Cookbook by Christy Dorrity
The 2012 Book Blogger's Cookbook by Christy Dorrity
Here are some other books Christy recommends:
Unearthly by Cynthia Hand
Tyger Tyger by Kersten Hamilton
Everneath by Brodi Ashton
Nightingale by David Farland
Starcrossed by Josephine Angelini
Descendant by Nichole Giles
Shrilugh by Myndi Shafer
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Front Quote
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
About the Author
Suggested Reading
<
br />
Awakening (Book One of The Geis) Page 28