Harvest: Dark Urban Fantasy (Shifter Chronicles Book 3)

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Harvest: Dark Urban Fantasy (Shifter Chronicles Book 3) Page 19

by Melle Amade


  “Mother!” Jacqueline screams as she runs towards Lydia, whose lying on the ground, the river water flowing around her. Jacqueline lifts her head out of a puddle as Callum, Hercules, Cooper, and Roman all run forward. Hercules lifts her and they rush her to her cabin. The cabin has a low dark deck leading off it and there are muddy footprints up as they take her into the house. Jacqueline doesn’t even stop them, though I’m sure she’ll be on her hands and knees scrubbing the snot out of the wooden floors once they’re done reviving her mother.

  “Is she going to be alright?” I ask one of the twins, who quickly comes back outside. He glances up at me, but looks down, not responding. Immediately I feel like a pariah, the one who caused the flames that made her use her powers. What if she’s anything like Lord Van Arend? When he had to bring on the rain he immediately became sick and nothing has cured him. He’s dying. What if the same happens to her? What if Jacqueline loses her mother? She already lost her sister and her mother is the only one left. It’s like Aiden. All he has left is his dad. But the cabin is silent as my friends come out.

  Even Hercules exits the cabin with the grizzly old man who did the fire walk right before Guinevere. It’s Dassan. I know I shouldn’t ask, I know I should mind my own business, and I know I should just shut my mouth, but I can’t stop myself.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  He stops dead, staring down at the ground about five feet in front of him. For a long-time he doesn’t say anything. The smell of sweet tobacco and earth comes off him as I stand there waiting and holding my breath, hoping he says something I can understand. Which lately, well, no one’s really said anything I completely understand.

  “Everyone will always be alright,” he says.

  That just pisses me off because it doesn’t mean anything.

  “I mean, is she going to get up and walk and breathe and do things again?” I ask.

  “I imagine so,” he says slowly, nodding and scratching at his chin. The twins move to either side of him, as if they’re bouncers. But right this minute I don’t care.

  “Because I’ve seen this happen before. My friend’s dad used water powers, and now he’s dying.” Dassan looks up at me, his eyes are steely gray.

  “You know someone with water powers?” He asks.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “Lord Van Arend, the leader of Muiderkring West. I don’t even know if you know who these people are, but he showed up in Potter Valley and he’s dying. His son brought him up here because our warlock is dead and he thought maybe Roman’s science could help him but it’s not working. It’s not.”

  Tears fill my eyes because I know the truth. I know he’s probably not going to make it. He might even already be dead as we speak. Aiden asked for space and stayed there when we came up here. And now we could’ve killed somebody else. Well I might’ve killed somebody else.

  “Do you know where these powers come from?” Dassan asks. I shake my head, because the truth is I have no idea, even though apparently, I have them. Jacqueline has them, Lord Van Arend and Lydia have them, but I have no idea what they really come from.

  “Hercules said something about Thunder Beings. I didn’t really understand.”

  “It is because of the connection.” His voice is gravelly and low, tapping out a rhythm in my ears. “What is the power you have?”

  My friends gather closer because they’re starting to listen to the significance of this conversation.

  “She controls fire.” Zan says and I can tell by her tone of voice, she’s kind of impressed with that. I smile warmly at her.

  “I wouldn’t say she actually controls it,” Cooper throws in.

  “Not helpful,” Roman points at Cooper.

  “And what power does Jacqueline have?” Dassan asks rhetorically.

  “She does earthquakes,” I make it sound like she’s the cupcake specialist. “Van Arend and Lydia do water. I don’t understand what it means.”

  “All of these items are of the earth,” Dassan says. “They all come from the earth.”

  “So, we all have some control over some element?” I ask.

  “There are two types of magic in this world. Magic of the Earth and magic of man. The magic of man requires spells, incantations, blood, ritual objects,” he says.

  “The Bloedhart ceremony,” I murmur as Zan and I exchange a look.

  “But as Shifters, you are born of Earth magic. From the very power that made this being.” His gnarled hand reaches down and picks up a handful of dirt, letting it sift down through his fingers and fall back to the ground.

  “Being?” Roman asks.

  “Humans and shifters alike are so far away from the Earth, we forget it is a significant being of energy. We get caught up in the magic of man or the technology of man and fail to remember Mother Earth is a real being alive and generous and capable of so many things. People pray to a god in the heavens and forget the power of the ground we stand on, that we can touch and connect to. But this planet is a living and breathing entity and it is capable of giving great gifts. Thunder Beings are there to help remind people of these gifts.”

  “Are you saying I was selected by the Earth to have fire power?” I ask. “That it was a conscious decision of the planet?”

  “It only sounds strange to because you do not believe the planet is alive,” Dassan says. “You do not see it as a breathing being. You do not understand that all the trees are connected through the roots and they talk to each other, or that the sky is full of whispering winds that will tell you stories if you dare to listen. Even the flowers have messages for you, because this is the way the Earth communicates.”

  My eyes go to Hercules because he has been the one saying “listen” and I always thought he meant listen to people, watch for their hand signals, but maybe he was talking about listening to the planet. He gives me a gentle smile.

  “So, you’re saying I was selected by Earth,” I ask Dassan.

  “Would it be easier for you to understand if I ever say you were the chosen one of God?”

  I frown because, in all honesty, yeah, I guess it is a little easier to understand. “I feel like God has a personality and intellect.”

  “Okay, now take this same personality and intellect and give it to the earth. And then I can tell you, yes, you were selected by the Earth to have these powers. And Jacqueline was selected to have her powers, and Lydia was selected to have hers.”

  His words sink into me. The world is so much different to me now than it was a couple of months ago. Why can this not be true also? I would never have guessed humans can shift into animals. But they can. Why should it shock me the earth is alive and seeking channels of expression?

  “I see the wheels spinning in your head,” Dassan squints at me. “But this is not an intellectual offering as you might believe of God. The Earth is always looking for a receiver who will be open and ready for her gifts. And there is an openness in you. The loss of your father, the loss of your powers because of the collar. These cracked you and allowed the power to come in. It is your connection to loss that creates the space for new powers to enter.”

  I glance towards the cabin. “Cory,” I say. “Her daughter.”

  “Yes,” he nods. “Both Jacqueline and Lydia gained their powers when Cory died. There was a great void in their lives that the power replaced.”

  “But then why doesn’t everybody who has someone die gain powers?” Zan asks. My gaze flits to Callum but he remains silent, just watching and listening. If anybody has been broken and beaten and cracked, it’s him.

  “Well for starters, it only works on shifters,” he says. “It only works on those who can transform into something else. If you don’t have that, you will never have this magic.”

  “Okay,” Callum says. “But, why does it choose some people and not others?”

  Zan nods. “We understand Jacqueline and Lydia lost their daughter and sister. But many shifters have lost people. Our own warlock Zaragoza lost his wife. And Callum, well, Callum’s
lost everyone.”

  Dassan shrugs. “We do not know the ways of the Earth or why some things happen and some things do not. The only thing I can tell you is that the Earth, when left to its own devices, when not manipulated or interfered with by man, has created a beautiful, if not harsh, paradise. Therefore, why would be we be the ones to question who it selects for these natural gifts?”

  “Since when is it natural to throw fire?” I ask.

  “The Earth does it all the time with the volcanoes,” one of the twins says.

  Our conversation is interrupted as Jacqueline comes out of the house. She runs down the stairs and straight to me, “I’m glad you’re still here.”

  I try not to let my mouth fall open in shock. It’s pretty much the last thing I thought would ever come out of her mouth, but she’s dead serious.

  “I need your help.”

  Okay, now that is the last thing I would’ve expected to ever hear come out of her mouth.

  “What do you need?” I ask, because I see she’s real and means it. There’s no way I’m not going to help her.

  “My mother says she needs a man,” she says. “Somebody- somebody at the farm, somebody you know. And he needs her.”

  “The water man,” Dassan says.

  “Lord Van Arend?” Callum asks. “There’s no way we’re moving him.”

  “You have to,” Jacqueline says. “My mother says he needs to come up here as soon as possible.”

  “Jacqueline, no.” My voice is soft. My friends quiet. “He’s dying.”

  “My mother could be, too. You have to move him,” Jacqueline says. She turns to Cooper. “Give me the keys to your truck, let’s go. We have to get him.”

  Her hands tremble and the ground underneath us shudders. I don’t know if I should do it, but I take the chance and reach out to gently touch her. I have enough control over the fire to warm my hand but not burn her. I want her to know I am here, but I don’t want to freak her out. Her eyes are warm and not shocked. She’s not freaked out at all. But they are pleading with me.

  “I think he’ll die if we move him, Jacqueline,” I say.

  “We’re not moving Lord Van Arend,” Callum stands up. He’s not mean about it, but he is firm.

  Jacqueline grips my hand and my heat connects with her vibration. A glow emerges as we connect; our power somehow unites.

  “They will both die,” Jacqueline says softly, “if we don’t put them in the same room.”

  We all stare at the power our hands are making. “What is this?”

  “This is the connection,” Dassan says. “It’s part of the Earth magic. Those who’ve been touched by the Earth and come together, something more is born of the two of them.”

  But even based on the look on his face, he’s never seen it before either and he’s in awe as he watches the vibrating fire move up around our hands.

  Roman is staring intently at the combined magic. “How does it feel?” His tone tells me he has his science cap on and is collecting data.

  “It’s strong?” I say.

  “It feels like there is a joining,” Jacqueline says precisely. “Not just that my hand is getting warm but whenever there’s an earthquake it is an extension of my own body. So, it’s not just sending it out of my body and it moves out there, it’s as if my whole self is getting bigger. And now, connected to Shae, it feels like we both get bigger together.”

  Her voice sounds a little bit cautious as she speaks, but I can hear she’s tuning into herself and trying to deliver data to Roman. I glance between them and realize she is working with him to try to solve the problem. Roman frowns for a moment and I see the gears in his brain grinding as he tries to figure out exactly what this is.

  Finally, his gaze falls on Callum and slowly, quietly he says, “We must bring Lord Van Arend here. He has no chance if we don’t and a small one if we do.”

  “Let’s go,” Jacqueline says, dropping my hand as she moves forward to where the trucks are parked just outside of the village.

  “Won’t you stay with your mom?” I move to catch up with her.

  She shakes her head. “No, I want to understand what’s going on. The twins and Dassan will look after my mother. You need to explain it to me as we go down there,” she says to Roman as we jump into the cab of Cooper’s truck.

  “I’m not sure I really can,” Roman says, “but the best I can understand is that he is running on half-energy and we can’t seem to stop his body from producing water. From what I understand from Dassan, Lord Van Arend is too open and he’s collecting the storm, but he can’t release it. The lightning short circuits at his fingers.”

  “He has lightning coming out of his fingers?” Jacqueline is awestruck.

  Roman nods.

  “Yeah but it’s not a good thing. It just fizzes around his fingertips. They’re all singed and black now. We can’t seem to get lightning out and inside, well, I think he’s drowning.”

  A look of panic writhes over Jacqueline’s face. “How is this going to help? If they are connected and he’s already dying, that’s going to ruin her. What if she becomes like him?”

  Roman squints at the dusty trail as he pulls a hairpin turn down the crazy roads of the Potter Valley Hill.

  “Your mother controls water,” he asks. “Right?”

  “Yes,” Jacqueline says. “She can move water, but the water has to exist. She doesn’t create water.”

  And suddenly it dawns on me. “She can pull the water from Lord Van Arend,” I say. “She can move it out of him!”

  Roman nods. “This is what I am thinking.”

  “But how is that going to help her?” Jacqueline asks. “I don’t see how moving the water out of him is going to help her.”

  “Has she ever collapsed after moving water?”

  “We’ve only had the power for, well, a few years,” Jacqueline says. “And, to be honest, we don’t really use it. Only for small things. She believes it’s something you use only when you need to. You don’t just wield great power for fun. You only use it when necessary.”

  “So, do you think it was just too big an amount?” I ask Roman.

  “Maybe,” Roman nods.

  “But I think there’s something else. And I just can’t quite put my finger on it. Having them together, they may connect like we did. But it’s going to draw the water out of him...” My words drift off.

  He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Jacqueline, I don’t know what’s going to happen to your mother. But it’s what she asked for, it’s what she wants. Therefore, there must be something she sees will help her. Hopefully, save her.”

  Jacqueline frowns. Her eyes misty as she stares at the road. “Or maybe she just wants to do one last good deed.” She runs her hand under her nose, coughing loudly to cover her sniffle.

  We bounce down the rest of the road in silence, leaning into each other on the sharp curves. I’m trying to pretend it’s not incredibly awkward and upsetting. Whatever’s happening with Lord Van Arend and Lydia, we only hope it can be stopped.

  24

  Spotswood Ranch is quiet as we enter. This was why we chose today for sparring. The fair in town is wrapping up so everyone else went to town to watch the auction. Zan’s family didn’t have any animals in the auction this year, but the adults still like to make and appearance and socialize.

  I think everybody was secretly trying to give Aiden some space alone with his father. He came here to try and get help, but when it became clear that Roman wasn’t able to heal Lord Van Arend, Aiden resigned himself to being present for his father’s last moments. It seems like he doesn’t regret coming here, though. Being around his friends at a time like this must help.

  My only hope as we walk into the house is that we are not too late.

  I rap my knuckles on the parlor door as it opens to alert Aiden that we’re here. He stares up at me with forlorn eyes. My heart aches, but I know there’s nothing I can really do to take away the pain. I motion behind me so he knows that more peo
ple are coming. I step aside immediately to let Callum in. As Ridder, it’s more appropriate that he takes the lead. Besides, the last thing I want to tell Aiden is that we’re moving his father.

  Callum’s hand rests on Aiden’s shoulder.

  I’m glad he reached out to make contact with him. These guys have been through so much together and now, when all seems lost and over, we’re here with hope. But I’m so afraid of giving it to Aiden because, what if we’re wrong?

  “I don’t think he’ll be with us much longer,” Aiden’s voice is dull and flat. “Maybe an hour. Maybe two. Listen to his breathing.”

  In the respectful silence of the room, Lord Van Arend’s breath is belabored and gasping with long pauses in between.

  “Yes,” Callum nods in sad agreement. “But we came here for more than to pay our last respects, Aiden. I want you to know, we aren’t suggesting this lightly, but we think you should move him. We may be able to-”

  Aiden stands up, his eyes blazing. “That is not going to happen.” His voice is strained and aching in the harsh silence.

  Callum closes his eyes and lowers his head, showing his deference to Aiden and his willingness to follow his orders.

  “I hear you and I will follow whatever you tell me to do. I am loyal to House Van Arend, but hear me out because we haven’t much time. The chance is possibly nothing, but your father, is my Lord and I am duty-bound to do whatever I can to save him, and I think this is an actual chance that if we do not take it at, even at this late and dangerous juncture, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Aiden, the Pomos may be able to save him.”

  Callum has his forehead almost pressed against Aiden’s making sure he focuses on every single word the Ridder is saying. As he finishes, Aiden breathes in sharply, pulling back and suddenly recognizing there are other people besides him and Callum in the room.

 

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