Spellweaver

by Tamara Grantham

  The boy gave me quick smile. “I’ll wait in the dining hall,” he said before dashing off.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Kull.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets before answering. “I cannot travel with you to Earth Kingdom.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Your stepfather was able to locate my sister’s presence in the Caxon’s camp. I must find her in the goblin lands, and I fear she will not stay for much longer. Now may be my only chance to save her. I am sorry, Olive, but I fear I must rescue her before it is too late.”

  Forcing a smile, I said, “Honestly, it’s probably for the best. The crossing will be dangerous without magic. Plus, after the last time, I swore you would never come with me to Earth again.”

  A half-smile lit his face. “Were my advances too forward for your comfort?”

  “After we came back, you couldn’t remember your advances, which is something I don’t care to repeat.”

  He grabbed my fingers and kissed my knuckles slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. My stomach gave its usual flutter. “Then I will make amends a hundred times over.”

  I couldn’t answer. His eyes, his words, his lips, held me spellbound.

  “I will begin my penance by escorting you through the dragons’ forest.”

  I tried to make some sort of answer, but my fluttering heart won out. All I could do was mumble an okay and let him lead me through the fortress, down the spiral stairs, and into the forest. I tried reminding myself that this was for the best, yet I knew how I would feel once he was gone. Like half a person. Like part of my soul was missing.

  The cold air came as a shock as we emerged from the mountain. I stumbled over the ice-slicked rocks, and my breath came out like puffs of smoke. I pulled my cloak tighter, but the chill still seeped through.

  Kull remained quiet as we traded rock-strewn ground for the leaf-covered forest floor.

  Except for our feet crunching over the ice, silence shrouded the forest like a thick blanket.

  After crossing through the cover of trees, we stopped at the edge of a cliff, where the bluish moonlight made the few stray wisps of clouds look like thin shreds of lace tacked onto the sky. I debated opening my mirror case but thought better of it. I wasn’t sure I would get another moment like this—just me and Kull alone, looking over a gorgeous view.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” I finally admitted.

  “I understand. I am a hard man to leave.”

  I playfully jabbed his shoulder. “Why are you always so conceited? And what happens if I come back and completely forget you? What will you do then?”

  “I am also a hard man to forget.”

  I rolled my eyes. Despite his teasing, I couldn’t push my fear aside. My insecurities had always been an issue. “I’m serious. What if I come back and you’ve found someone else? It’s not an absurd concept. There are many women out there much prettier and smarter, and with better bloodlines and—”

  He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me against him. “Enough,” he whispered. His mouth tickled my ear. “I have chosen you. That is all you need worry about.”

  My hand rested on his chest, and I felt the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my fingers. As he held me, his warmth calmed my frantic thoughts. I decided to take his advice. Worrying about the future would do nothing but cause me pain. I would enjoy my last moments with him.

  “When will you travel to the Caxon’s camp?” I asked.

  “Soon. I fear Heidel will not last much longer under the goblins’ influence. She is not weak, but I fear her feelings for Geth have clouded her judgment.”

  “I wish you luck,” I said.

  “And I wish the same for you.”

  He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. The gentle strength of his fingers caressed my cheeks, making my heart leap into my throat.

  I let him hold me until the moonlight shone bright over the Rheic Sea far in the distance. My elven senses brought the sound of the crashing waves to me, a sound that reminded me of my home back on Galveston Island.

  Kull brushed a kiss over my lips, and I tried to soak in everything. His scent, like sandalwood and spruce. The feel of his hands on my face, callused but warm, and with a gentle strength. The beating of his heart under my fingertips.

  “I’ll miss you,” I whispered.

  I thought he would give me another quip about how he was a difficult man to leave behind. Instead, he cupped my chin. The moonlight reflected in his eyes, making them a clear, icy blue. “And I will miss you. More than you know.”

  The intensity in his voice made it impossible for me to argue. He ran a finger across my lips, as if trying to remember every detail of my face. How would I let him go?

  I didn’t want to, but I pushed away from Kull and removed my laptop case, opening it with a click. Blue Faythander light usually glowed from the screen, and not seeing it came as a shock.

  “Can you cross without the magic?” Kull asked.

  “Fan’twar told me to use my Earth magic. But I’m not sure how. I feel like I’m going in half blind.”

  “Are you sure it is wise to travel without the magic?”

  “No. But I don’t have any other choice.”

  He exhaled a lengthy sigh. “I do not like this.”

  “I don’t either. But if I want to find the Everblossom’s magic, I have to try.”

  I gave him one last glance before pressing my hand to the glass. He gave me a slight smile, though I saw the worry in his eyes.

  I let my palm and fingers connect with the glass. The mirror’s smooth surface chilled my hand, making a shiver run down my spine as I closed my eyes. Using the magic had become second nature. Usually, the magic warmed the screen and fed into my energy. But now, the magic’s absence was unnatural, an emptiness that I felt in the pit of my stomach.

  Searching deep within, I called on the ancient magic of Earth. Earth magic conjured images of deserts and sunsets. It smelled of rain during a thunderstorm. It was the color of liquid amber. Earth magic had a simple, subtle power—harder to find, but just as powerful as Faythander magic if used in the right way.

  After concentrating for several intense minutes, the magic finally flowed through me and into the glass—the opposite of how I would usually travel—but the glass warmed, and I felt the crisp scents of the dragons’ forest begin to fade.

  The whirlwind of magic caught me in its grip. My stomach churned and my ears popped as my body soared between worlds and experienced a change in pressure. The magic grew stronger. Glowing amber enveloped me until I lost all sense of direction. My thoughts became a blur. The light blinded me until I felt I would be torn apart, right before the world went black.

  ***

  A sandpaper tongue licked my cheek. Focusing, I found a pair of large, round eyes looming over me. My cat, Han Solo, bounded onto my chest. The sound of his purring slowly brought me back to reality.

  Sitting up slowly, dizziness disoriented me, making my apartment spin in my vision. I pushed down the urge to vomit while Han’s furry gray tail tickled my nose.

  “Hey, buddy.” I spoke with a weak voice that I almost didn’t recognize as my own. How long had I been out? I scratched Han’s ears, and he ate it up. Poor cat. I’d been gone several weeks. If I hadn’t had my neighbor checking in on him, I was sure he would have turned feral.

  I sat on the floor for several minutes, inhaling deep breaths and trying to keep the dizziness from making me black out again. My thoughts turned to the overly-confident, madly handsome brute I’d left behind. Already I missed him. But he needed to rescue his sister, and pining over him would bring me nothing but misery.

  As soon as my head cleared, I stood and took stock of my situation. My apartment looked how I’d left it. My mother called the place a dump, but I prided myself on the seven-hundred-square feet I called my own. I’d never decorated—it just wasn’t in me to hang pictures or display knickknacks. Maybe someday, if I had a place to share with someone, I�
�d give it a try. But for now, I made do. I had a bed, dresser, matching couches, even a coffee table. I’d bought it all myself, and it gave me a sense of pride, even if I had bought them at a secondhand store.

  I crossed into the kitchen and took inventory of the fridge. Not much. The salad, grapes, and strawberries needed to be thrown out. The lunch meat was expired, as was the milk, and the cheese was beginning to mold.

  After closing the fridge, I found my phone. Bringing up my checking account app always made me cringe, and this time was no different. I had enough cash for a few groceries, but if I intended to pay the utilities and the rent, I’d have to scrounge.

  I hated scrounging.

  My phone’s screen showed that I had a few messages. The first couple of messages were from Jeremiah, my godson. Smiling, I called him back quickly.

  After returning to Earth, he and his sister, Sissy, had found a new home in Kansas. I made sure to check up on them religiously every week. After their last experience, I wasn’t about to let something happen to them again.

  I spoke to Jeremiah and Sissy, who filled me in on all the latest. They lived on a farm and told me about their garden, where they were growing sunflowers and pumpkins. Jer had gotten a golden retriever whom he’d named Fan’twar. I thought it a fitting name, although the mention of my stepfather made my heart sink. The sky king had allowed Jeremiah to keep some of his memories. He’d said it would help with the healing.

  Before hanging up, I told them both that I loved them, promised to send more saltwater taffy from LaKing’s on the Strand, and then hung up. I desperately missed both of them, but they sounded happy, and with my current unstable situation, I knew they were in a better place than what I could give them.

  I turned my attention to my other messages. The next missed calls were from Doc Hill, a psychiatrist I’d worked with in the past. He’d even helped me find a cure for Jeremiah, although he still didn’t believe in magic or Faythander. But he trusted my abilities—he knew I could cure the patients that he couldn’t. Doc Hill had three clients he thought I’d be interested in, and a few cases would be enough to get my checking account in order.

  As I listened, I wondered if I would be wasting my time looking for work. Shouldn’t I be hunting down Mochazon and the Everbloom? But if Mochazon had traveled here with the magic fluctuating, there was a good chance he’d have no memories of Faythander, and that meant he could possibly be on my list of clients. At least it was somewhere to start.

  I grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down each person’s information.

  Miranda Hawkins, age twenty-one, student at the University of Houston, suffering with depression and possible schizophrenia. She also had a basketball scholarship, and the university was willing to pay for her treatment. Good for my pocketbook, but not so promising for finding the Everbloom—I doubted Mochazon would’ve taken a female form and had time to get a scholarship. Also, Miranda didn’t sound like my typical client. No offense to the sports fans out there, but they rarely had an interest in traditional geekiness.

  Client two—Thomas Clayton, male, age fifty-four. His neighbors were concerned about his hoard. The police had issued a notice for him to evacuate his premises unless he could cull his collection of fairy figurines. Apparently, he’d also given in to cluttering his yard with giant, half-clad Viking warrior women statues. Interesting. His case definitely sounded related to Faythander, but—as with the first—I wasn’t sure it would lead me to Mochazon.

  Case three—John Doe. He was described as tall with dark skin and unusual eyes. He’d sought help at the local homeless shelter, where he’d displayed symptoms of PTSD, and he suffered from several delusions, one of which consisted of “visiting an alien world.” Although his symptoms weren’t the classic ones, his physical description piqued my interest. If Mochazon had traveled from Faythander, it was likely the Earth magic would have interfered with his physical appearance.

  I decided to pay a visit to the homeless shelter… right after I found a way to pay for the gas to get there.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I had three more messages that I dreaded listening to—two from Brent and one from my mom. I couldn’t avoid them forever, although somehow, I had to find a way to break it off with Brent.

  I’d always been horrible with breakups. Usually, I just stopped talking to the guy until he got the hint that I didn’t want to see him anymore. But with Brent, I knew he’d want an explanation.

  Sitting on my barstool and staring at my phone, I decided to dial Brent first. He picked up on the first ring, as if he’d been waiting by the phone.

  “Olive?”

  “Hey, Brent.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At home.”

  “Seriously? I came by like seventeen times, and you never answered.”

  “I know. I was out of town.”

  “Oh, okay.” He knew that “out of town” meant out of this world, though I still wasn’t sure he believed in Faythander.

  “Well, I’ve been dying to talk to you about something. Want to meet for lunch?”

  I cleared my throat.

  “We could meet at your mom’s. She’s been worried about you as usual. I’ll bring my tamales.”

  Ugh. He wasn’t going to make this easy. Breaking up with him in front of Mom sounded just as fun as sticking needles through my eyes. Mom loved the guy. According to her, he was the best decision I’d ever made. “Sure, that’s fine. I need to talk to you about something, too.”

  “Great!” he said a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  He hung up before I had a chance to say anything else. Drat. Maybe I could call him back and say I had a work thing. My empty stomach rumbled, and despite my motivations to never see Brent again, I needed food. A free lunch at my mom’s would fix one problem, but it would stir up about a million others.

  I also needed money, though I hated asking Mom for money. It was up there on the list along with jabbing needles in my eyes. Reluctantly, I listened to the message from my mom.

  “Olive, it’s your mom. Just checking in. Wanted to make sure you’re okay. Call when you get a chance. I need to discuss something with you. I had to quit my pottery-making class because it was really getting to be a strain on my schedule. It’s fine—I mean, I’m fine. I… I’m well enough, just going through a little rough patch lately. Oh—but I still need to talk to you. Just call.”

  I replayed the message, trying to decide if I actually heard my mother’s voice. Mom was usually so collected, and she rarely got rattled. Her defense mechanism to stress was to be more organized, more put-together, and more robotic. She wouldn’t talk about her feelings if her life depended on it. Until she let it go too far.

  Dread welled within me. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she knew what I was about to do to Brent. She’d always had a soft spot for the guy.

  I slid my phone across the counter and decided to change before the lunch date. Going to Mom’s in my animal-skin cloak, muddy boots, and leather breeches probably wouldn’t make the best impression as I begged her for money.

  Showering quickly, I changed into my blue jean skirt and red sweater. I even put on some lip gloss and mascara, but my mind was a million miles away from the task at hand. I ran through the possibilities of how to best let Brent go.

  You make a better friend than boyfriend.

  I just need some time alone.

  It’s not you, it’s me.

  Good grief, could I get any cheesier? Maybe I should just tell him the truth.

  I met a Viking warlord who stole my heart. If you have issues, please take it up with him.

  Frustrated, I laid my makeup aside and instead grabbed my hairbrush. All this worrying over Brent was silly, really. I needed to focus on more important things, like how to find Mochazon and the Everbloom.

  I stuffed the Faythander texts in my bag right as the doorbell rang, and then I stood at the door for a few moments without opening it. Why was I so nervous? Brent
wasn’t the guy for me. He never had been. It was better for him and for me if we parted ways. He didn’t even like me. Not really. I mean, we hadn’t done anything couple-ish in months. He hadn’t bought me flowers or candy or anything. We were more like siblings than a couple. I recited that mantra in my head as I opened the door.

  Brent stood on the landing with his dark hair artfully mussed, beaming his radiant white smile, wearing his name-brand polo and pressed khakis, smelling of his expensive cologne, but I barely noticed him. I was more focused on the bouquet of red roses.

  Crap.

  He smiled. “You look nice.”

  I wanted to pound my head against the door. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “These are for you.” He handed the flowers to me.

  “Oh, they’re… pretty. I’ll just put them in some water.” I hurried into the kitchen and found a vase, filled it, and put the bouquet on the counter. Their fresh floral scent filled the room. The rose petals were a deep red that matched my sweater. Why did he have to bring flowers? Why? Just when our relationship was taking a nosedive.

  Stupid, stupid flowers. Stupid Brent for bringing the stupid flowers.

  Brent held out his arm as I stepped outside and locked the door behind me. He escorted me to his Honda. The crisp December air smelled faintly of sea salt as we made our way to Brent’s car. In the distance, I heard the ocean waves rushing to shore. The sky was cloudless and brilliant blue without a trace of haziness. Brent didn’t talk as he opened the car door for me and ushered me inside. Then, he climbed in on his side and started the engine. Just like old times.

  Why was I here? Why was I doing this?

  He chitchatted all the way to Mom’s house as if we’d only been apart for a few days. I mumbled responses when necessary, my hands clenched and sweaty in my lap and my heart beating loudly in my ears.

  “You’re quiet today,” he said as we turned into my mom’s driveway.

  “Am I?”

  “Yeah. Is something wrong?”

  “No. I’m all right.”

  We exited the car and walked toward Mom’s porch. Her stone-and-brick house was one of the nicest places in her pricey neighborhood. Although I’d lived there through my teenage years, it had never felt like home. It was a sterile place full of little emotion. How could a place like that ever feel like home?