Quickly, I grab my charcoals and begin to draw a net around that section of the drawing just as a tiny face covered in gills comes out of the paper. Its eyes scan the room wildly as it flails against the net. A high-pitched squeal comes from its mouth as it falls back into the drawing and the water where it came from. The drawing sits peacefully on my desk. The dampness is gone, and not even the water shows signs of a ripple. I jump out of my chair and dance around the room. I did it!
I sit back down and take a deep breath. I need more practice. I pull out more paper and start flipping through the Book of Summoning until I get to Chapter Five. Here I make mental notes of some of the lesser demons and their preferred habitats, and start drawing.
The first drawing I attempt is a djinn, easily trapped inside any container. I choose a lantern, and laugh at the total cliché of it all, but there’s something magical to bringing a childhood fairy tale to life. The experience doesn’t come through as impressive, unfortunately. Instead of a large, turbaned spirit, black shadows start to fly up from the drawing. I quickly cap off the lantern, and everything settles back on the paper. I call it a win.
Next, I try a goblin. It’s a little hefty of a demon to try out for a beginner, but I want a challenge. As I draw a mountain scene, where they apparently like to live, I start working on drawing one of the grotesque little creatures, but the image of the imp keeps coming into mind. The more I focus, the worse it gets, and before I know it, something is trying to crawl out.
I begin to sketch a house around it, to try to stop it from coming through. But before I can finish, the face of the imp pokes through. “What are you doing?” he squeals.
“Go back!”
“You’re the one calling me.”
I freeze. I didn’t know I could do that. “It was an accident.”
“I told you I don’t want out. Just leave me alone.”
The creature looks from side to side, checking out the corners of my room.
“What are you so afraid of?” I ask. “Is it the dark figure?”
“Shhh!” he says, panicked.
“So it is,” I say, leaning closer. “What do you know about him?”
“I’m not telling you anything. Leave me alone.”
“You better tell me, or I’ll pull you through and let him have you.”
“No!” he squeals. “Don’t be so cruel. That wicked tovaros must be wearing off on you.”
“I’m just learning more about how to be a summoner.” I motion to the Book of Summoning.
His eyes grow wide at the sight of the goblin on the open pages. “Fine. I don’t know much. I like to keep a low profile, you know. You can’t get into much trouble when you just care about yourself. Anyways, whoever that dark figure is, he’s looking for you. And he isn’t going to let any demons get in his way.”
“Why? What does he want?”
“That’s all I know!” the imp yelps. “Now send me back!”
I hear the door downstairs close. “Daciana? Is everything okay?”
“You better not be lying,” I warn. “I know how to find you now.”
“Hmpf.” He shoots me a dirty look as I finish the house, closing him back into the drawing.
So, the dark figure has put a warning out to all the demons to leave me alone. Hmmm. It sounds as if I’ll have the advantage over the wendigo.
“Daciana?” Katya’s worried voice comes from the other side of my bedroom door.
I scramble and cover up my drawings just as Katya opens the door. “Sorry,” I call out. “Just deep in studying.” I point to the open text.
She glances around the room and then nods. “Okay. I’m going to be working downstairs.” She looks back at my pile of papers and raises an eyebrow. “Be good.”
I spend the rest of the day in my room, honing my skills at summoning and trapping demons in my drawings. After six successful attempts, I flip the pages to the wendigo and begin to plot out how I’ll capture it. Everyone will see I don’t need protecting after all.
Time passes until a knock interrupts my thoughts and I hear Tryan’s voice float upstairs along with Katya’s; they seem to be arguing about something. I step outside my door into the hallway and tiptoe toward the stairs to hear what they’re talking about.
“We’re close,” he says. “We’re going to need her help whether you like it or not, Katya.”
“No way,” Katya says. “It’s too soon. Something’s wrong; she doesn’t trust you anymore.”
“That’s my fault?” Tryan says. “She’s so damn stubborn, I don’t know what to do with her.”
“I’ll go in her place,” Katya says. “I refuse to send Daciana before she is ready.”
“I’ll call you when we need you,” Tryan says. He comes into view at the bottom of the stairs; his wavy hair is disheveled, like when he was at the hospital. Hunting is taking its toll on him.
“Have you heard from Constantine?”
“Not yet,” she says. “I fear the worst.”
“Something is going on.” Tryan shakes his head. “The Tovaros High Senate is keeping it all hush-hush, though.”
“I fear light summoners are watching.” Katya’s voice is hushed to almost a whisper.
“That is never good,” Tryan says. “I better go. Tell her I came by, please.”
His eyes glance up the stairs, catching mine. I let out a small gasp and jump out of sight, pressing my back tight against the wall. His face looked like it was painful to see me. Before I can think of anything to say, I hear him leave.
Almost angry at myself, I return to my bedroom and close the door. I’m left with more questions than I had a moment ago and frustrated that I have no one to talk to about them.
“Nice room.” I jump at the sound of Liana’s sarcastic voice coming from my bed.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Or should I ask: How did you get in here?”
Liana motions to my bedroom window. “It was too easy; you should really do something about that.”
“Why are you here?” I ask, throwing her my best dirty look and dropping into my desk chair.
“Listen,” Liana says, leaning her elbows forward onto her knees, “you need to get over this problem you have with me and stop taking it out on Tryan.”
My jaw feels like it dropped to the floor. My problem? “Maybe you’re the one who should lay off Tryan,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“That’s better,” she says. “Nothing like a little jealousy to get the heart pumping. But seriously, you need to put these thoughts of Tryan and me out of your head. I’m taken.”
“If Tryan really cared, he’d be the one in here.” I cross my arms in front of me. “And you don’t act like a girl who’s taken.”
“Oh, please.” Liana rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing between Tryan and me, and there will never be. I found my summoner long ago. Tryan is just a good, old friend. He’s only interested in you.”
“I’m not his first,” I say, “who says I’ll be his last?”
“So you know about Caterina?” Liana smirks. “You’re not as naïve as I thought. Yes, she was someone he cared for deeply, but Caterina only cared about Caterina. Tryan thought he had found the ‘one,’ but I warned him that Caterina didn’t truly love him. She was an older woman who used Tryan for his youth. She manipulated him to help her kill demons—that is not our job.”
“Kill?”
“Yes,” Liana says, sighing and leaning back against my pillows. “Tryan paid a dear price when they were caught by the Senate. He has been on probation for the last three months, paying his penance. Since then it’s difficult for Tryan to trust anyone.”
“Where is Caterina?” I ask.
“Rotting in some summoner prison hellhole back in Romania,” Liana says. “It’s perfect really, poetic justice.”
It must have been hard for Tryan, killing demons. He seems so disciplined, so guarded. How could he trust anyone again?
> “Stop fighting yourself over all of this,” Liana says, leaning toward me again. “Don’t you see; you two are meant to be together. Tryan is just overprotective of you because of what he’s been through.”
“I guess.”
“You guess.” Liana laughs. “I will hunt you down myself if you hurt him.” My anger shoots up into my cheeks. “Oh, don’t look so offended. Come on, come with me. Let’s get out of here and go find Tryan.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t want to stay stuck in this room any longer, do you?” she asks. “Maybe we’ll even find the wendigo?”
I grab my sweater and toss my sketchbook and charcoals in my bag. Tryan may or may not want to see me, but I don’t care. I’m going to get rid of this wendigo once and for all. Then maybe Liana will finally get lost, too.
We take the long way around to Tryan’s house, but no one’s there when we arrive. Liana lets herself in as if she’s lived there forever. We might have found a common ground, but we definitely didn’t bond back at my house.
“So,” I ask, lifting a bra off the chair before sitting down, “where do you sleep?”
“You’re hilarious,” Liana says as I toss her underwear onto the floor. “Honestly, if I wanted Tryan, I would have taken him years ago.”
“Tell me about this summoner of yours then.” I need something to wipe the thought of her and Tryan entwined together out of my mind.
A narrow smirk runs across Liana’s cheeks and reaches her eyes. She leans forward on her knees and looks away, almost dream-like. “His name is Nicolae,” she says. “We grew up together; in fact, I’ve known him longer than Tryan. I always knew he had a crush on me, but I have to say, stringing him along was part of the fun.” She stands and walks to the window, staring out at the woods across the street. The setting sun halos her lean figure. “All through high school he pined for me, then, when we turned seventeen, I gave in and committed.”
“Why would you string along someone you liked?”
“Oh, Dacie.” Liana smirks again, tossing her long, blond hair over her shoulder as she turns her face toward me. “You don’t get it, do you? Once a tovaros and summoner have a connection and commit, there’s no going back. You’re together for life. It was the only time I could play a little with him.”
“Why did you leave him then?” I ask. “Why risk his safety to come here and watch Tryan?”
“Tryan is a dear friend,” Liana says, narrowing her eyes at me and looking away. “He’s been in trouble ever since Caterina; Nicolae understands that. Plus, Nicolae’s been working closely with the Senate. There are larger things out there, above even our pretty little heads.”
“Where could Tryan be?” I ask, standing up and looking out the door. As if I had the ability to summon him, he appeared at the opening to the path in the woods. “Hey look, there he is—”
The treetops behind Tryan start to sway and tilt, moving closer and closer to him. He stops across the street as our eyes connect, lifting a hand as he waves to me.
“No!” Liana screams, running to the door and pushing me out of the way. I notice she’s already carrying her bag. “Run, Tryan!” she screams, running across the lawn.
I watch in slow motion as Tryan ducks and turns toward the woods and Liana’s long legs reach him in seconds. She grabs him by the back of the shirt, pulling him toward the house. Soon the two of them are running toward me before I’ve had a chance to move.
“Lock the door,” Liana commands.
“Where’s my knife?” Tryan asks. His eyes connect with mine and without a word I nod. Everything is good. I’m okay. We’re okay. Let’s do this.
I open my bag and pull out my charcoal and sketchbook. This is all I brought? What was I thinking? I feel underprepared to deal with any demon, let alone a wendigo.
“Just breathe,” Tryan says, coming up to me. “And use this if you need to.” He hands me a small hunting knife. “For emergencies only, deal?”
I let out my breath and my lungs release in pain. I must have been holding it in since I saw him across the street. Everything feels manageable again. “Deal.”
“Good.” He leans forward and pecks me on the lips. “Let’s do this.”
“Target is across the street,” Liana says from the window. “It’s out of the trees.”
I look back through the door and see nothing but darkness between the trees. Then something shifts slightly in the shadows and suddenly those creepy red eyes are staring back at me like warning lights in the distance. Shadows spread around it, in and out between the surrounding trees. We seem to be attracting an audience.
“How are you going to get it over here?” I ask, turning toward Tryan. He and Liana look at one another, then back at me. “What?” I ask.
“Well, we need you,” Tryan says. “That’s been the problem all this time. The closest we’ve gotten to the wendigo is when you’re around.”
“What am I, bait?” I shoot a knowing look at Liana. “What would you have done if I didn’t want to reconcile?”
She shrugs.
“This was a trap!” I say, staring back at her. Of course, Liana does what’s best for Liana. She never cared about reuniting Tryan and me.
“Hold on,” Tryan says. “It was my idea. I told Liana the other night—”
“You’re not making me feel any better.”
“Listen,” Liana says, putting her hand on her hip and jutting the opposite one in Tryan’s direction. “It’s too late to argue. I know you want to help get rid of this thing; well, here’s your chance.”
I turn and look back out the window, watching the red slits that intently focus in my direction. I let out a sigh to release the stress that’s pushing against my ribs.
“Okay, what do I have to do?”
“Just go out the door and stand outside,” Liana says. “The wendigo will come to you and we’ll attack it.”
“But don’t go too far,” Tryan says. “Stay by the door.”
“Okay,” I say, raising shaky fingers to the doorknob. “Okay, I can do this.” I look back over to Tryan and he nods, but there’s no reassuring smile on his lips.
I clutch my sketchbook tight to my chest and force myself to step forward as I open the door. My eyes are glued to the woods across the street. Where’s the wendigo? I can’t see its eyes anymore.
I look back to the window and Liana shrugs. Tryan continues to stare across the street. I turn back, but nothing has changed. Even the shadows around the wendigo seem to have disappeared.
I let go of the door and take another step down the front sidewalk and stop. Still nothing. I jump as the metal of the screen door slams behind me, but it doesn’t seem to rustle up any activity across the street. I take two more steps away from the house.
Then it happens. The leaves across the street begin to rustle as if a large gust of wind rushes through them, but it’s not wind, it’s hundreds of dark shadows flying out from the trees toward me. I scream and drop down to the ground, feeling their flurries fly above me, pulling at my hair as it whips about.
Their onslaught ends quickly, and I look up to see if there’s more. But instead of seeing shadows, the red eyes are back and they’re not in the woods anymore, they’re attached to the rest of the wendigo, staring at me out in the open on the street.
I scramble up from the ground and run for the door. Tryan’s standing on the other side trying to get out.
“Let me in!”
“I can’t,” he shouts. “Those shadows jammed it shut.”
“Watch out!” Liana screams.
I turn slowly and see the wendigo on the lawn, watching me as its body heaves up and down as it breathes. Its smell of decay burns into my nostrils.
“Stay back,” I shout at the monster, holding up my sketchbook. “You’ve broken the rules. You have to go home now.”
The wendigo flexes its hands, revealing the sharp claws it attacked me with in the woods. I for
ce myself not to run, and face down the demon I am responsible for.
“Don’t move,” I warn. “You were warned not to touch me.” I step toward the demon, barely able to feel my legs as I move.
The wendigo throws up its hands and lets out a loud howl in my direction. I freeze, unable to run or protect myself. It jumps across the street, landing in front of me. I stare up at its matted fur, watching helpless as it raises a claw at me. I do the only thing that comes to mind—I pull out the blade Tryan gave me and stab the wendigo in the gut.
Blood squirts onto my hands and I jump back in shock. Did I really just do that? The wendigo screams again, but still brings its hand down at me. I cower, holding my arms above my head waiting for its attack.
At the same time, a loud smash comes from behind me and a bright light shoots past my face, hitting the wendigo in the chest. The monster stumbles backward and I jump to the side.
“Are you okay?” Tryan grabs me, pulling me away from the monster. “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s not mine, it’s the wendigo’s,” I say, staring at my red hands. “What just happened?”
“Some help showed up,” he says, pointing across the street. Eli and his dad are standing there, each holding a long string of light between them and the wendigo.
“Now’s your chance,” Tryan says. “Hurry up.”
I run over to the wendigo with Tryan beside me. There it writhes on the ground, frozen by the light. Even the blood that was squirting from the blade sits petrified, as if it has already coagulated.
I fumble with my sketchbook, dropping it on the ground beside the demon. I fall to my knees and pull the book open to a sketch I had practiced on. This one was a scene of a large iron cell. I know exactly what I want to do.
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