Tracking Magic: A Rylee Adamson Short Story

by Shannon Mayer

  Now there was only me. Just Rylee. I smiled at myself, and then laughed softly. Yes, time to start new. And what better way than to have a kick ass ability? Even if I didn’t know what the hell it was.

  CHAPTER 3

  The next morning, I got up before dawn, whipped through the routine Giselle had laid out for me and started cooking breakfast before my mentor had even gotten out of bed. All night, I’d been unable to sleep. Every time I thought of the girl named Milly, I’d felt the thread between us, could have pointed exactly what direction I’d need to go to find her. Now, I just had to convince Giselle. Of course, the fact this Milly chick had some stone Giselle thought the kid shouldn’t have, should mean Giselle would want to go after her.

  “You’re up early,” Giselle said as she came down the stairs.

  “Yeah. Listen. I can find Milly. I’m sure of it,” I said as I flipped two eggs onto a plate and slid it in front of her. Next came a steaming cup of coffee with two sugars and two creams.

  “Bribery?” She looked at me over the rim of her coffee mug. I shrugged.

  “I thought you might need some convincing.”

  She took a long sip of her morning brew, then took a bite of egg before she answered. “You’ve done your routine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then get your gear together. I’d like to see what you think you can do.”

  I bolted out of the kitchen, and scrambled up the stairs before she changed her mind. At that moment, I realized I was still a child, truly wanting to please my mentor, and be useful, a part of things. I didn’t care, though. All I knew was, I could find Milly. I could find her and then . . . well, then I would be doing something good. Something important.

  And then maybe you could find Berget.

  Yes, that was what I was hoping. I wanted to believe this tie I had to Milly wasn’t a one-time deal. That I’d be able to find my little sister after we found Milly. Then maybe I could go home, perhaps my parents would forgive me for losing her . . . the fantasy spun out in my head, as I dressed in blue jeans a white tank top, and hiking boots. The ‘gear’ I had consisted of a bowie knife I strapped to my lower back under my tank top. Probably not the most comfortable way to wear the knife, but it put the blade within easy reach. Even with only one knife, I wasn’t too worried. Giselle would have her sword with her and maybe a few other weapons. She was a hell of a lot tougher than she looked. At forty years old, she was old enough to be my mom, but shit, she could still kick ass with the best of them. It would be hard to leave her and go back to my parents when I found Berget, but I was sure she’d understand.

  Back into the kitchen, I went as Giselle finished her breakfast. “Ready?”

  “Yes, aren’t you going to bring anything?” I glanced over her in her yoga pants and loose t-shirt.

  “This is your run, your salvage. Not mine. I’m just there as . . . oh, let’s call it a consultant.”

  My mouth went dry. “What if there are problems?”

  “There are always problems when it comes to supernaturals, Rylee. We are centers of chaos wherever we go. It’s in our very blood to be problems.” She smiled. “Now, I’ll drive; you direct.”

  I followed her out to the battered old mustang that had surely seen better days. The bright blue paint had faded and rust holes peeked out along the lower edge of the muscle car. But I saw none of it as I pieced together what was happening. This was a test, Giselle wanted to see what I had. If I had it in me to survive this world. I took a deep breath. I’d be damned if I failed this. One way or another I’d find this kid and the magic stone she carried.

  The mustang’s engine came alive easily; that was one thing about Giselle. The exterior might be falling apart, but what was under the hood was babied to within an inch of its life, not unlike her house.

  “Where to?” Giselle asked as she buckled herself in. I stood in the open door on the passenger’s side a moment before sliding into my seat.

  “She’s south.”

  “How far?”

  I thought about how the connection felt. Like a bad phone call from overseas. “Not that close.” I couldn’t pinpoint it any better than that.

  Giselle didn’t ask anything else, just backed out of the driveway heading for the I94. “You’re sure she’s south?”

  I fingered the edge of my seat belt. “Yes.” God I hoped I was right about this.

  We drove for almost two hours before I felt a shift in the connection between me and Milly. Subtle, like the change in direction of the wind, but it was like . . .

  “She’s scared,” I said softly.

  Giselle glanced over at me. “Why do you say that?”

  I closed my eyes, pressed my fingers into my temples. “I can feel her, inside my head, and she’s scared and tired.”

  The connection shifted again and I shouted without thinking, “Left, go left.”

  Giselle spun the wheel and the mustang fishtailed as we slid down the off ramp at highway speeds, the mustang’s tires squealing on the hot pavement.

  “A little more notice would be better.” Giselle said, her voice dry.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, feeling Milly’s fear heighten and then a sharp burst of pain. I sucked in a breath and held it, the other girl’s emotions and feelings strengthening the closer we got to her. “Hurry, Giselle. I don’t know what it is, but she’s hurt.”

  Giselle didn’t question me, only eased the car up over the speed limit. A faint tickle on the back of my neck made me turn in my seat and peer out the back window. A dark sedan followed us, and while I hadn’t been watching it for more than a few seconds, I knew who was in it.

  “The FBI dude is on our tail,” I said.

  “We’ll lose him in a moment,” Giselle said. She pulled over to the side of the road, the dark sedan following us.

  Shit, this was not good! The drive in me to get to Milly, to stop the pain she felt, overwhelmed me. I couldn’t deal with Agent O’Shea. Not today.

  But, there he was, stepping out of his sedan, then straightening his black suit and adjusting the designer sunglasses on his face. He wasn’t old, not like the other agents I’d met, and I’d met a few. O’Shea was in his mid twenties, but acted way older. Like he was trying to impress someone.

  He strode to the passenger side of the mustang, his suit filling up the window. One knuckled tapped on the glass. “Roll it down, Adamson.”

  I started to shake, the sound of his voice taking me right back to being thrown in jail, the scent of urine and the soft crying from the other inmates, the fear I would end up rotting away the rest of my life.

  I eased the window down half an inch. “What do you want?”

  “Roll the window down.”

  “I did.”

  A barely visible tremor ran through his body. Was I pissing him off? Giselle said nothing, again letting me figure this out on my own. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that or not.

  “Roll it all the way down,” he snapped.

  Cranking the handle, I did as he asked. Agent O’Shea put his hands on the car door and leaned way in, invading my space. “Where are you going?”

  “For a drive,” I said, keeping my eyes lowered. What would he say if he saw the changes in my eyeballs?

  “Look at me.”

  Damn, there was no getting away now. I lifted my eyes to his. He didn’t react, didn’t flinch, nothing. I stared into my own reflection in his sunglasses, took in the flexing of his jaw and the fresh smell of aftershave. His hands tightened on the edge of the door and I fought not to cringe.

  “If you’re done. We’d like to go,” I said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I know you killed our sister. And I will prove it if it takes me another ten years,” he growled, pushing off of the car.

  I swallowed hard, felt the pain of losing her all over again. But for the first time, it pissed me the fuck off. Leaning out the window I yelled at him. “Yeah? Well aren’t you going to look fucking stupid when after ten years you still
have an unsolved case. That ain’t going to look too fucking good on the permanent record, is it?”

  His back went ramrod straight as his steps faltered for half a beat. He jerked his car door open, and got in to the sedan, and slammed the door behind him with enough force that I imagined the hinges might have been busted. The sedan spun out on the gravel behind us, the tires squealing as they gripped the pavement before the dark car disappeared around the next corner. Well, at least that got rid of one problem.

  I eased back down into my seat and cranked the window back up. “Ok. let’s go.”

  Giselle said nothing at first, just pulled back onto the road. We’d driven for a good five minutes in silence before she let out a whooping laugh.

  In moments, tears streamed down her cheeks, she smacked the steering wheel with her hand and finally, she wheezed out. “I wondered when you were going to find your spine. Thank the gods for that agent. He really pushes your buttons, doesn’t he? Mind you, looked like the feeling was mutual.”

  I crunched low in my seat. “I have a spine.”

  She snorted, wiped her eyes and then looked over at me. “No, you don’t. But you seem to be growing one.”

  I wanted to cry, could feel the emotions welling up in me. But then I thought about the look on Agent O’Shea’s face, the anger and frustration, and how his step faltered when I yelled at him. I thought about the fact that I’d caused it all to happen, just with my mouth, and I started to laugh, slowly at first, then louder and with great glee.

  “Oh my God! Can you believe I swore at him?” I covered my mouth, snickering around my fingers.

  “I noticed. Try to keep the f-bombs to a minimum if you will.” Giselle said, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

  “I’ll do my fucking best,” I whispered.

  CHAPTER 4

  We ended up way out in the badlands, deeper than I’d ever been before. The summer air lay still. No wind, which was very unusual, and to be honest it creeped me out. I opened the door and stepped out, my feet crunching on the sparse brown grass— more dirt and rocks than plant life. I could feel Milly, her thread of energy still pulled me to the south, but there was no more road. We would be on foot from here on in.

  “Can you still feel her?” Giselle asked.

  “Yes, stronger now,” I said, then lowered my voice. “Something creepy is going on here.”

  Her eyebrows shot up and she tipped her head to one side. “Why do you say that?”

  I took a deep breath and slowly turned in a circle taking in the view all around us. What was it? Not just the lack of wind. No, there was nothing, no birds, no slight scuttle of a bug or sniff of a coyote. Nothing.

  “It’s too empty,” I finally said, coming full circle to stare at Giselle. She slowly inclined her head.

  “Yes, it is. Now, let’s go find Milly and the stone she has in her possession.”

  Taking the lead, I followed the thread of the other girl’s . . . life? Or energy? I wasn’t truly sure, I only knew it was her I followed, her pulse of emotions humming alongside my own.

  The odd part was it didn’t seem weird. More like I’d been doing this all my life . . . “Tracking,” I whispered.

  Giselle reached out and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “What did you say?”

  I turned my head so I could look her in the eye. “Tracking. That’s what I’m doing.”

  Giselle’s eyes widened. “Oh my.”

  “What?” Crap, what now?

  “Nothing. We can talk about it later.”

  The next few minutes we travelled without talking, though I kept glancing at Giselle hoping she would say more. When she did, though, it had nothing to do with me.

  “Why do you think young Milly is out in the middle of the badlands?”

  I sniffed. “I don’t know.”

  “Think.”

  Reaching back I traced my fingers along the handle of my bowie knife, two could play this game. It didn’t really matter why Milly was out in the badlands. Giselle was just trying to distract me. I countered with a question of my own.

  “What does the stone she’s supposedly got really do?”

  My mentor took a sharp breath in then slowly exhaled. Though I hadn’t known her long, I had a gut feeling she was about to spill.

  “It is not just a stone. It is a honing device for demons that live on the deeper levels of the Veil. It allows them to cross to the human world without being summoned. For it to be floating around, in the hands of a young girl, is extremely dangerous. I will not explain it more. This is enough information for you. The stone is dangerous, and that above all else is what you must remember.”

  Her brown eyes were serious and I gave her a quick bob of my head in acknowledgment. There would be nothing more gained from questioning her.

  We worked our way along the barren land, the sun high over head, the wind starting to pick up. In the distance, the top of an old mining shaft, the kind that were supposed to be shut down was barely visible. That was the direction of the pull I felt toward Milly. If what I felt was right, we would be headed straight to the mining shaft. I sincerely hoped we’d get to pass by it without even looking down. The idea of trying to get a kid out of a deep, stinky, dark shaft gave me the willies.

  The threads inside my head took that moment to intensify, tightening into coils that hummed with energy. Looked like the mine shaft was where we were headed to after all. Crap. “We’re close to her.”

  Giselle slowed her steps, allowing me to go first.

  Without another thought, I pulled my bowie knife out and held it in my right hand. Something about the top of the mine shaft gave me the heebie jeebies, and I did my best not to look too closely. The shifting of a slim body hunched down behind the edge of the shaft; there was a glimmer of dark hair, but without even seeing her, I knew the crouching person was Milly.

  “Hey, Milly. We aren’t here to hurt you,” I called out.

  The figure hunched more, disappearing behind the shaft completely. “Then why have you got a knife out?” Her voice was pitched with fear, exhaustion and youth. Slipping my knife back into its sheath I crept forward.

  “I put it away. I wasn’t sure if you were alone. I felt . . .” How was I supposed to tell her I felt her pain earlier? No, that wasn’t a good idea.

  “I was worried you might be in trouble.” I continued forward, the ground crunching under my feet with each step. Less than ten feet between me and the mine shaft and I could see the top of Milly’s head clearly. She trembled, her slight frame shaking with every breath.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I think my arm is broken.” She whimpered, lifting her head to peer at me over the lip of the shaft. Those huge green eyes of hers wide with fear and pain stared up at me.

  “The person who hurt you . . .” I said, staring around us, seeing nothing.

  “He was a shifter, I think.”

  Reaching the old mine shaft I peered down the open hole, my gut clenching. Wide enough for two people, and easily five feet across, the inky blackness stared up at me and with it came the faint whisper of old death curling along the updraft. I swallowed hard and refocused on the kid. “Listen, you can come with me. We’ll get your arm set and everything.”

  “You’ll protect me?” she whispered. The disbelief was clear in both her voice and her eyes. I had to fight not to think about Berget, to wonder if anyone had tried to protect her. Tried to keep her safe. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.” I crouched down beside the mine shaft, my back against it soaking up the warmth from the sun. Caution highlighting her every move, Milly crept around the shaft until she was next to me, our sides touching.

  “How did you know my name?” She asked.

  “A shifter came after me, thinking I was you, maybe the same one who hurt you.” I said, the truth falling from my lips even while Giselle sucked in a sharp, disapproving breath. What the hell? No point in lying. Honesty had got
me into trouble in the past, but I didn’t have it in me to lie.

  Milly looked up at me, her hands gripping the tattered bottom of her too large shirt that cradled her obviously injured arm. “So you came to find me?”

  “Yes. You have something the shifter and other supernaturals want. A stone.”

  Her face paled. “I don’t have it.”

  Giselle had drawn close while Milly and I had spoken. “Where is it, child?”

  Milly lowered her face and shook her head. “I can’t tell you. He’ll kill me.”

  That could not possibly bode well for anyone. Shit, was this kid already dealing with demons? I stood and moved away from the mine shaft, eyes searching the surrounding area. “What happened to the shifter who came after you?” I thought about his speed, and teeth. How had she gotten away unscathed?

  A gulping sob spun me around, but Giselle beat me to it and had her arms wrapped around Milly, soothing her, being careful not to bump her injured arm.

  “Hush, hush. Tell us what happened.”

  “I didn’t mean to, he startled me and I didn’t mean to.”

  Oh my God, did she mean she’d killed him?

  “Holy fuck,” I whispered, feeling my eyes widen. How had she managed to kill Martin? Because even though she hadn’t said it, I was damn sure that was what she meant. He’d nearly had me and I even had some training.

  Giselle mouthed a word over Milly’s head.

  Witch.

  Well, that explained it. If she could toss around magic, then she was far more dangerous than me or Giselle.

  There was no more getting words out of Milly now, her sobs quickly reaching an out of control crescendo. Giselle helped her stand and I stood back, watching the interplay, not really sure what to think. If I’d broken down like Milly at any point, Giselle would have smacked me upside the back of my head, yet here she was coddling this new girl. Maybe because of the age difference between us . . . no, that wasn’t why. Giselle lifted her eyes to mine as if reading my thoughts.