Spell For Sophia (The Teen Wytche Saga Book 4)

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Spell For Sophia (The Teen Wytche Saga Book 4) Page 12

by Ariella Moon


  "But Bayou may have other ideas."

  The grimoire shot dank-smelling mist into the room. I waved my hand in front of my face to dispel it.

  "Yes." Yemaya coughed. "Things might get real catawampus."

  "Great." I pulled a different accent pillow onto my lap and smoothed its pewter fringe. "If we get separated, or I panic or something, how do I find you? How do I find my way back to my body?"

  "We'll create some safeguards. First, you'll need a protective amulet."

  My anxiety pills came to mind. Then for a brief moment I considered digging up my throwing stars. But there wasn't time, and I had promised my friend Jazmin I'd only retrieve them in case of a home invasion or zombie apocalypse. Besides, I got the impression no weapons were allowed.

  "Do you have a crystal? One you can fit in your hand?" Yemaya asked.

  "How about my pendulum?"

  "Perfect. Go get it." She reached for her hippie bag. "I'll get mine."

  We retrieved our pendulums and repositioned ourselves on the daybed. Yemaya said, "We don't know which path our spirit flight will take. Maybe we'll soar like eagles over the land. Or we might find ourselves tunneling downward. Or we could end up in the Void, a place of darkness and silence."

  "Um, let's avoid the Void."

  "I wish we had a choice. I'm not wild about heights or the Void. I'd rather travel through the Underworld." Yemaya pulled three tea candles and a box of matches from her bag. "Seriously. If you end up in the Void and you suffer from anxiety or claustrophobia at all, bail. I mean it. Will yourself home. Otherwise you risk going lockdown-ward crazy."

  The blood drained from my face and pooled in my stomach, meshing badly with the Chinese food. Yemaya couldn't know about my stint in the mental ward. If she did, I was pretty sure she wouldn't let me accompany her on the journey.

  "You okay?" Yemaya asked.

  No. "I think I ate too quickly. Good thing we decided to wait on dessert."

  "Magic always has a price. If you're having second thoughts—"

  "No. I'm good. What's next?"

  "We light the candles." She arranged the tea lights on the plate so they formed a triangle next to the spell book. "One for each of us, and one for Sophia." She handed me the matches. "Light a candle for Sophia, so she may shine like a beacon and guide us to her."

  I struck a match. The flame flared and the scent of sulfur reached my nose. I lit the candle at the top of the triangle and repeated the intention for Sophia to become a beacon. When I finished, I handed the matches to Yemaya.

  Yemaya set ablaze the candlewick in the bottom right corner of the triangle, blew out the match, and then held her pendulum several inches above the candle. "May the light of this candle fill my crystal and guide me on my journey. And may a helpful spirit guide and/or totem animal aid me as I search for Sophia Maria Perez-Hidalgo." She passed me the box of matches.

  I exhaled a long breath, lit the final candle, extinguished the match, and then held my pendulum aloft. The candlelight glinted off the seven gemstones on the pendulum's chain — one for each major chakra — and filled the rose quartz point at one end and the heart-shaped rose quartz at the other end with a soft glow. The spell book whirred, sounding like an exotic night bird.

  "May the light of this candle fill my crystal and guide me on my journey," I repeated. "And may a helpful spirit guide and/or totem animal aid me in my search for my friend, Sophia Maria Perez-Hidalgo."

  "If you do end up in the Void, beware. Not everything you might encounter there will be friendly. You'll be able to recognize me by my crystal. And if you need to make a quick escape, think of your rose quartz and it will lead you home."

  "White crystal — you. Rose quartz — home. Got it." I doubted I'd encounter many biracial teen girls with long blond dreadlocks while surfing the Void, but better to have a failsafe than no backup plan.

  "Second safeguard," Yemaya said. "Listen for the drums. I'll start the CD in a minute. The drums will lead you home. No matter what, if the drumming gets super-fast, stop what you are doing and journey back. Super-fast drumming means the CD is about to end and you'll lose your auditory path home."

  "Got it." I glanced down at her scuffed blue CD player. I hoped the batteries wouldn't fail, since there was no electrical cord. "What's the third safeguard?"

  "Your spirit guide."

  My pulse jumped. "I don't have one."

  Yemaya snorted. "Idiot. You have a dragon."

  My cheeks did a slow burn. "Oh. Right." I hope it shows up. Uncertainty hit me. "What should I do if I find Sophia?"

  "When you find Sophia: assess, address, then manifest success."

  "Excuse me?"

  Yemaya struck her right forefinger against her left. "Assess Sophia's situation. Address her to discover if she can see or hear you. If she can, then you can get more information about her needs. Then manifest success by doing something in the moment if you can, or by returning to your body to develop a concrete plan."

  "Assess, address, then manifest success. Got it."

  "If all else fails, send out a psychic distress call to your aunt, uncle, and Thor. They're all dragon shamans, right?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Perfect. Easy peasy. You got this."

  "I'll be searching for Sophia through infinite realms on the space-time continuum while trying to avoid an evil Walk-in and not lose sight of you. I'm not feeling the easy peasy part."

  Yemaya affected a smile. It resembled my fake manners-class Everything-Is-Hunky-Dorky-Ignore-Me-I'm-Suicidal show of teeth. "If it were easy, everyone would be a shaman." She fingered the copper spiral dread wrap. It matched her wrist cuff. "Easy peasy is Aidan's term. Put him on your backup list, too."

  "Okay. Done."

  "Look. You don't have to do this. I can go alone."

  I shook my head. I blasted demons at Spiral Journeys. I can do this. "Sophia is my friend. I want to go. Besides, my almanac entry for today said 'be brave and expect the extraordinary.'" I examined the Walk-in veve. The design was simpler than others in the book. I memorized it, then met Yemaya's gaze. "Let's save the world before my parents return."

  Yemaya flashed a genuine smile. "Okay." She scooted closer until her left knee pressed against my right. Warmth and warrior energy flooded the contact point. "Since you've experienced spirit flight at your aunt and uncle's store, close your eyes and picture yourself entering Spiral Journeys."

  "What about the spell book?"

  Yemaya compressed her lips. "We leave it open so the information continues to resonate with us as we journey."

  The pages riffled, this time emitting a cacophony of sounds — crickets, birds, and small splashes. The second floor heater shut off and the temperature dropped.

  Yemaya threw the spell book a stern look. "We haven't forgotten Bayou. One step at a time."

  The noises stopped. Yemaya resumed. "One last thing…"

  "Uh-oh."

  "Sometimes journeying through the Void opens up other talents, like the ability to hear spirits—"

  "Clairaudience."

  Yemaya nodded. "Or clairvoyance."

  "The ability to see ghosts and activities beyond normal vision." I said. "That would be interesting if we end up in New Orleans."

  Yemaya shuddered. "You have no idea. Imagine centuries of violence, catastrophes, slavery, war, plagues—"

  "Are you trying to scare me out of this?"

  "No." Yemaya shifted on the daybed. "Just prepare you. It can be quite a shock. Oh, and you might lose your sense of smell. But it will return."

  "I appreciate the warning." I blew a long breath out between my lips. "Let's do this."

  "Okay. Picture yourself entering Spiral Journeys."

  I closed my eyes and envisioned opening the glass door. The breeze stirred the wolf-and-moon wind chime over the cash register.

  "Breathe deeply in and out. Calm your thoughts. Slow your heartbeat."

  The sound of our breathing filled the room. My shoulders sagged and my bo
dy grew heavy. As Yemaya's words brought me deeper and deeper under, my chin dipped toward my chest. I inhaled the bright gardenia scent from Aunt Terra's handcrafted love votives and the exotic sandalwood incense burning on the store's Buddha altar. My bedroom and the milky white daybed slipped from my consciousness. My awareness split between the warm swath where our knees touched and Yemaya's hushed monotone. The cushions rustled when she leaned over and started the CD player. My mind barely registered the movement.

  A whistle — not quite human, not quite raptor, and backed by a shaman's rattle — filled my ears, beckoning the spirits and totem animals. "We welcome the spirits who will guide us on this journey," Yemaya said over the CD. "And we ask for their protection as we search for Sophia Perez-Hidalgo and Shiloh Breaux Martine."

  I sensed the dragon lifting its head in a distant realm and lumbering to its feet.

  Yemaya guided me through loosening my auric field. Then she said, "You stand inside Spiral Journeys. Look up at the mural and allow yourself to take flight."

  The mural painted above the bookcases along the back wall of the store came into focus. Treeless, rust-colored mountain peaks jabbed a cobalt sky. My stomach lurched. A familiar lightheadedness wobbled through me. At my back, dragon energy stirred.

  The grimoire pages riffled, creating a breeze. In my mind's eye, I saw a current of air lift Yemaya's drawing and carry it like an errant ash over the edge of the table. The Evil Away powder splattered like bits of dried blood onto the snow-white area rug. Dread coursed through my veins. I must warn Yemaya. But the meditation had brought me too far under. Before I could gather my wits enough to swim back to consciousness, drumming, deep and insistent, replaced the whistle and rattle. I sensed massive wings in the air above and behind me. My muscles tensed. Spiral Journeys dissolved.

  The mural expanded into a three-dimensional landscape and tipped toward me. The CD's drumming merged with the drums reverberating in my chest. Before the dragon's talons could prick my shoulders, I envisioned my leather bomber jacket. Its weight and warmth engulfed me. The dragon's claws clamped down on my shoulder. A slight prick, then the dragon swept me into the sky. My stomach whooshed. The drums wormed inside my head, urging me on, changing my DNA.

  Go. Go. Go.

  My shoulder blades tingled. My legs grew weightless, my vision sharper. Erratic energy buzzed between my shoulders. Cool air skimmed my body, ruffling my hair and rippling the slouch top I wore over my skinny jeans. Ahead, a bright white light shimmered between the rust-colored peaks. The drumming faded away, replaced by the thwap, thwap, thwap of the dragon's wings. The portal of light drew closer. The steady pressure of the dragon's talons against my shoulders increased.

  My pulse accelerated. The dragon swung me backward. Tension built in my stomach. Claws bit into my jacket as the creature rocked me forward and released me. For several heartbeats I fell through nothingness, blinded by the brilliant light. Then massive wings unfurled between my shoulders. My stomach dive-bombed. I sucked in a cold breath. With two strokes I flew into the light.

  A disturbance wave warped through me, exiting my body with a distorted blurp. Infinite darkness closed around me. The Void. Panic infiltrated every cell in my body. "Dragon?" I twisted, searching for a horizon line, something to distinguish up from down, ahead from behind. No stars. No sound. No hint of Yemaya. The silent darkness pressed against me as though I were an intruder it must destroy. My wings dissolved. I remained suspended in nothingness, too light. Defenseless. "Yemaya, are you here?"

  Mute blackness answered.

  Claustrophobia thickened my throat, constricting my airway. I swung about, disoriented. Where's the portal? I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

  No light. No portal. Panic obliterated whatever instructions Yemaya had given me. The Void had swallowed the portal or dragged it into a black hole, leaving behind vast darkness. I've lost the way back.

  By reflex, my right hand reached for my left. I intended to dig my nails into my flesh to short-circuit my panic. When I felt nothing, I glanced down. My etheric hands shined like translucent silver starlight. Thor's crystal glowed in my palm. Relief flooded me. I raised the pendulum like a lantern. Find Sophia.

  The crystal-studded chain swung outward and to the left. The rose quartz point brightened, providing a small pool of comforting pink light. My pulse slowed. My anxiety retreated. My throat opened wide enough for me to gulp the frosty air.

  "I'm here." Yemaya's voice sounded inside my head. Tears of relief brimmed my eyes as I spotted a dot of white light off to my left.

  "I see your light."

  "Good. Concentrate on Sophia and follow the tug."

  "Tug?" It was disconcerting to see Yemaya's pendulum point but not her body.

  I conjured up the memory of the last time I had seen Sophia. We had joked over lunch in the school cafeteria. It seemed like yesterday, yet a lifetime ago. I pictured her dark brown eyes and thick black lashes. She had braided a section of her long, wavy hair and secured it with a rubber band. The narrow braid fell over her left ear. She had pulled it across the skin graft on her throat when she finished eating.

  My belly button tingled. The sensation grew stronger, as though an invisible cord was being pulled from me by a power drill set on reverse. The rose quartz at the end of my pendulum changed direction and pointed straight ahead. The almost imperceptible outline of a dark tunnel appeared. Before I could make sense of it, a sharp tug catapulted me forward and I flew, screaming silently into the blackness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sophia

  "I need to sit, eat, and think," Breaux declared. So we descended the outdoor ramp and entered the nearby Café Du Monde. "Weird," Breaux said. "No line."

  I trailed him as he threaded through the breakfast crowd seated at small, round tables in the cavernous open-air room. Ceiling fans hung motionless above us. Breaux passed an empty table before settling on one next to a pair of senior citizens who were rising to leave. Before the busboy could clear their table, Breaux snatched the newspaper the couple had left behind.

  "It's just the sports section," Breaux said, scanning it. "But, look. The date is the same. Ten years into—"

  "You ready to order?"

  We both jumped. I wrapped my arm around my ribs. "We don't have menus," I said.

  The white-hatted server rotated the napkin dispenser, exposing the brief menu affixed to the side. Breaux ordered coffee, water, and beignets for both of us. The server left without a word. The nearby scent of chicory coffee and deep-fried pastries smothered in powdered sugar grumbled my stomach. I tried to remember when I had eaten last.

  "This has to be one of Papa Legba's tricks, don't you think?" Breaux asked.

  "But we saw Mam'zelle's spirit."

  "Why would she do this?"

  I flattened one hand across the top of the tightly stuffed napkin dispenser and plucked several napkins with my other hand. "Maybe she's mad because I forgot to give you her message." I unfolded the top napkin and pleated it. "With everything happening so quickly, I forgot. Sorry."

  He stole a napkin from my stack and dipped half of it into his water. "What message?"

  "Here you are." The server returned with our pastries and drinks, collected Breaux's money, and then slipped back into the crowd.

  I hid behind my bone-colored coffee cup.

  Breaux scrubbed the blood from his hand. "Grand-mère's message?" he prompted, then bit into a beignet.

  I lowered my cup. "Don't squander your good luck and brains."

  Breaux choked, then coughed, spraying powdered sugar. His eyes bulged. He covered his mouth with a fresh napkin to stem the next cough. I pushed his water toward him.

  "Thanks," he said after a couple of cautious swigs. He placed the glass on the table between us. His eyebrows pinched together. "Are you serious?"

  "Yes, sir." I slouched against the green plastic seat back and affected a casual stance. Well, as casual as I could manage while sore and trussed up. I settled for knocking
drifts of powdered sugar off my beignet, then taking an alligator-size bite.

  "When did Grand-mère give you this message?" he pressed.

  I swallowed the deep-fried dough and swiped my sugary lips with a napkin. "Before she died."

  "With any other girl, I'd say duh. But with you, a postmortem conversation would seem entirely believable."

  "Thanks. I think." There. I delivered the message. And he didn't flee. I glanced over the waist-high wrought-iron fence corralling the diners and sipped the bitter coffee. The hot liquid seared a path down my throat. My insides warmed and the tension constricting my stomach loosened.

  Breaux shifted in his chair and glanced toward the sidewalk where a street artist was setting up his easel and paints. He stiffened and leaned toward the low fence. "Soph, look!"

  A corpulent man and his two daughters circled the empty table beside us, blocking my view. Breaux stood. "We have to go."

  "But I haven't finished my—"

  "It's Grand-mère." Breaux rose and dropped tip money — way too much — onto the table and then sidestepped toward me. I gulped my second beignet and washed it down with water while Breaux helped me stand. I brushed the sugar from my fingers before he cupped his hand under my elbow and escorted me to the nearest exit. A rogue wind scooted the newspaper off the table and carried it through the bars of the wrought-iron fence.

  "This way." Breaux pressed his fingers to the bloody bandana as if the quick walk had made his head throb. A fresh stain of bright red blood bloomed across the white cloth.

  "We should get you to a hospital," I said as we crossed Decatur and headed for the mule-drawn carriages. "You just left a thirty-two percent tip."

  "Is that girl-speak for I need my head examined?"

  "You do have a head injury."

  "It will have to wait." He lowered his voice and bent closer to my ear. "A hospital would require me to divulge my name and birth date. Mine matches their congressman's. I'd wreck the time-space continuum." His hand tightened on my elbow. "There! By the pedicabs, do you see her?"

  I followed his gaze to the row of yellow bike taxis. Mam'zelle's luminous form hovered beside the lead driver. Spotting us, the pedicabber raised his chin in acknowledgement. "Good morning. Do y'all need a ride?"

 

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