Force of Nature

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Force of Nature Page 2

by Shawna Logue


  “Oh.” Of course that’s what she meant. I was still getting used to the whole “magic is real” thing that I hadn’t even thought about curses. “Where are you going to go?”

  She looked down and sighed. Her response was mumbled and barely audible: “To the only person who can remove it.”

  I didn’t say anything, unsure of what she was getting at. She looked up at me and must have sensed my confusion.

  “The caster,” she added, her voice pained.

  “What? How are you going to find him?” I knew I had spoken a bit too loud because she raised her hand up to hush me.

  “I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I’m headed to the airport right now to go to England. From there, I’ll head to Avalon. If Merlin isn’t there, someone there will know where he is. My girls are out searching right now too, though I doubt they’ll find anything. They tend to get distracted.”

  “Your girls?”

  “Oh, Alex, come on! Do I have to explain everything?” She seemed humoured by my density. “The harpies, my dear. They go where I go,” she paused, and pointer to a small gold signet ring on her finger, “so long as I have this.”

  “What is it?” I asked, genuinely curious. I knew she wore this ring all the time, but I had never given it much thought.

  “This,” she said, subconsciously twisting it as she spoke, “is the Seal of Solomon. It is how I control the harpies.” She paused, remembering something far away. “It is also how I met Nic.”

  The sound of my boss’s name made my face fall involuntarily. No one had seen or heard from Nic since just after the fight, when he went into hiding with his wife, Peri, and the Philosopher’s Stone. No one expected to hear from him either, but I still missed him.

  She continued, not noticing my expression. “When I first found the ring, I had no idea what it was, though I recognized the symbol engraved on it as being alchemical in nature. I knew of the man who possessed the Philosopher’s Stone; he was widely respected among magical circles.

  “At this time, Nic was living in Madagascar, so it took a while for me to seek him out; eventually I found him. He was able to tell me what I was in possession of. We ended up talking for hours about the power of the ring, of the stone and of each other. At the end of our conversation he asked me if I would help him move the stone. He knew that its power was attracting his enemies, and with the power of my ring I would be able to fight with him.” She paused, sighing. “It was the harpies who came after him first, and simply by channelling my power through the seal, I was able to control them with a single thought. The second wave fled once they saw what had happened, and just like that the battle was over. The girls have been mine ever since.”

  “Why didn’t you let them go once the stone was hidden?”

  She smiled softly. “Alex, harpies are vicious creatures. I am painfully aware that the second I lose control over them, they will kill me for imprisoning them, especially after this long. I have no choice but to keep my hold on them.”

  My cell phone started ringing, interrupting the conversation. I checked the call display. It was Maria. “Shoot,” I muttered as I let it go to voicemail. “I was supposed to just be getting water. She’ll be wondering why I’ve been gone so long.”

  “Go! Get back!” she laughed, waving her hands at me to fan me back to my seat.

  I couldn’t help but feel sad. I didn’t want to leave Morgan. I wanted to hear more of her stories. I wish I knew her better. “Morgan, I…,” my voice cracked as I tried to speak. “I need you to know something.”

  She looked up, but didn’t say anything, probably because she had already seen this conversation in one of her visions. I continued, “I want to thank you for everything. You risked so much in that fight, and even when you were hurt you still were able to cover me and-”

  “Say no more, Alex. Don’t you worry. I’ll be fine. But, you’re welcome nonetheless.” She smiled, all traces of sadness removed from her face. “You should go! Your friend will be worried.”

  I bent down and hugged her, feeling a strange sense of closeness that I hadn’t ever felt with her before. Maybe it was because she was leaving, and I had no idea when I would see her again, but I suspected it was similar to how Dermot was bound Connor. Morgan had saved my life, and I think I would always feel indebted to her.

  “Goodbye, Alex,” she said, patting my back maternally as she hugged me back.

  “Goodbye,” I answered, pulling away. “I hope you find him,” I added as I walked away.

  “Wait! I forgot!” she called and I twisted back around. “When you get back in town, I want you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “Tell Connor I’ve left. I never got to tell him goodbye, and he’ll be looking for my help in a little while.” She pointed at her glass eye to indicate she had seen this, and I nodded to show my understanding. “Also, there is a book in my office that I want you to have.” She held up a small iron key. “In the bottom drawer of my desk is a journal. It’s mine. Please take it, but do not tell anyone. It’s very personal.”

  “You want me to read your diary?”

  “It’s not a diary, Alex. It’s a journal, or rather, a notebook. Just take it, and read it. You’ll understand why.”

  My phone rang again. I sighed as I saw Maria’s number on the screen. Morgan pressed the key into my palm. “Promise me,” she said, and I nodded. She didn’t give me time for anymore goodbyes as she turned her chair around and wheeled away. It took a second to realize my phone was still ringing.

  “Hello?” I asked, knowing exactly what Maria was going to say.

  “Alex! Where have you been? We’re almost here! I thought you were just getting water?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I ran into a co-worker and got talking. I’m headed back right now! See you in a minute.” I snapped my phone shut before she could reply and turned back around.

  Morgan was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter Three

  The bus to downtown Vancouver was crowded. It seemed everyone on the ferry had the same idea as we did; you couldn't blame them considering how much money it cost to take a taxi into the city. Unfortunately, that meant not only was the bus filled with people, but also with luggage. Maria and I had no choice but to stand for most of the forty-minute journey. I was more than exhausted by the time we reached our stop, not just from lack of sleep but from the constant grip I had to keep on the bus' support as it swayed around each corner.

  Maria, however, was more excited than ever. She had mapped out a route, taking us all through the downtown core. We were to stop at every dress shop she had pre-approved through her research from Google. I was happy I had only packed a small backpack for the trip. It was still morning, and too early to check into the hotel; Maria would be wheeling her little suitcase all day.

  Unfortunately, that quickly turned into me wheeling the suitcase for her while she eagerly led me from store to store. She kept her map clutched tightly in one hand while her other hand held a camera she used to take endless pictures of what she called “inspiration” for her wedding. Mostly she took pictures of flowers, but she also snapped a few old, classic cars, suddenly determined that something like this would be what she would like to drive off in, tin cans rattling noisily behind her. Her wedding was going to be a 1930s gangster-style theme. I'm not sure how she managed to get Justin to agree to that. He had always struck me as very traditional. This was Maria though, always going over the top wherever she could; it was her day after all, so I pulled the little suitcase behind me like any good Maid of Honour would do while their Bride whirred with excitement.

  Surprisingly, it only took six stores before Maria found love. In a dress, I mean. The store hadn't been on her list of acceptable bridal stores or even on her list of unacceptable ones either. In fact, we almost walked by it. A small, elderly woman was walking towards us with her puffy, white dog, and being a sucker for animals I had stopped to pet it. It was when I stood back up that I saw the little
boutique across the street. It looked very new, which is probably why Maria hadn't found it on Google. When I pointed it out, her reaction was immediate. In fact, I’m fairly certain I heard a squeal come from somewhere in her throat. It certainly made the dog bark uncomfortably.

  In the window of the tiny boutique was a sleeveless gown completely swathed in lace. The style was modern, but the fabric was antique. Even from across the street it looked exquisite. Maria was across the road in a few quick bounds. I was grateful that there was no traffic, because I doubted she was looking. I followed as quickly as I could, trying to keep the suitcase from tipping over as I struggled to keep up. I failed, and ended up having to carry the suitcase as I hurried across the street.

  “It's beautiful,” she cried, reaching a tentative hand to touch the glass. After a moment, she sighed, her eyes focusing on her reflection instead of the mannequin.

  “What's wrong?” I asked worriedly. This dress was exactly what she had wanted; I couldn't imagine why she wouldn't at least try it on.

  “Oh, come on, Alex,” she shrugged. “It's on a mannequin. That means it's a size 0 or something. I'll never fit that!”

  Maria was hardly one to complain about her size. She was pretty tiny, probably no bigger than a size 4. I often envied her at how easily she could find clothes that fit. But she also had a bit of problem in the self-esteem department, though she didn't show it to anyone but me. Often she just needed to be pushed.

  Switching into Super Friend mode, I grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the store. The girl working there seemed shocked at my determined tone when I asked for the dress out of the window. “I just set that up there,” she whined. “Wouldn't you like to look around first?”

  “No, we would like that dress, thank you.” I was tired, and bordering on cranky. Plus, I knew if I let Maria leave without at least trying the dress on that she would regret it, and I would be the one who would get to hear about it.

  Half an hour later, Maria was in tears. The dress fit her like a glove. She wouldn't even need to make alterations. The best part was it wasn't even that expensive, for her at least. I balked at the price tag, but Maria insisted that she could afford it, especially because Justin's father was paying for the wedding. I'm not sure I could ever spend that kind of money on a wedding. I would rather spend it on the honeymoon, or put it towards a house, or something else practical.

  Not that I was getting married anytime soon. Despite the fact that I was madly in love with Connor, I couldn't picture myself marrying him (though I really tried). He was immortal after all, a fact that I was reminded of every day when I looked into his perfect, unchanging face. I was still a couple of years younger than him, in theory, but a part of my mind wouldn't let me think long term when it came to Connor. I couldn't bear the thought of getting old without him. Even if he stayed with me as I grew older (which, the one time we had talked about it, he had insisted he always would), I still wouldn't feel comfortable. No, I couldn't feel comfortable at all.

  I forced the thought out of my mind as I stifled a yawn. Maria was still twirling in the dress, much to the annoyance of the girl working here. We were her only customers, so you'd think she would make an effort to help us, but at least Maria was oblivious, and that made me glad. Eventually, she came down off her cloud, and went to pay for the dress. The girl redeemed herself by offering to courier it to the hotel, which Maria agreed was much easier than carrying it around town until we could check in.

  While they sorted out the details, I sat quietly, feeling a fresh wave of sleepiness kick in. I slid off my glasses and rubbed the tiredness from my eyes.

  When I looked up without the impairment of the lenses I could see the truly exquisite detailing in the lace. It really was an amazing dress. I looked around at some of the other gowns, and none compared to Maria's in detail or quality. I stifled another uncontrollable yawn and quickly glanced to Maria in the hopes she hadn't caught me. She hadn’t; she was too excited, and most likely had more activities planned for us now that the dress was taken care of. I had to endure.

  So when my eyes flickered out the window to the faint glowing blue force line that billowed down the centre of the street, I was surprised at the two emotions that washed over me, guilt and anger.

  Guilt, because my first thought was to reach out for the line, even though Connor had made his feelings on force lines quite clear, and anger, because clearly there was something in the lenses of my glasses that had kept me from seeing the line in the first place.

  I slid the glasses back on slowly and as my eyes focused, the line disappeared, confirming my theory. Connor didn't trust me with magic, I guessed. He hadn’t completely blocked my vision from seeing force lines, but he must have reduced the intensity of which I could see them. Now that I had figured this out, I was even more determined to saturate my desire. He had awakened a rebellious teenager inside me. Furious, I crammed the glasses into my jacket pocket, not caring if I damaged them.

  My mind reached out to the faint line, tentatively at first; I really only needed a little bit of energy to keep me going for the rest of the day, but the fact that Connor had bewitched my glasses made me crave more in defiance. What would he even know, anyway? What did I care what he thought at this point? It’s not like he’s in charge of my life.

  The result was instantaneous. The energy poured into me, slowly responding to my tentative grasp, and then increasing as I tugged harder on the line. The sweetly bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth and drove my senses crazy. I had missed this taste. I had craved it without realizing it. My mouth salivated at the flavour.

  “Are you ready to go?” Maria asked, interrupting my recharge. The force line snapped back into place the moment I broke concentration, but I had already drained enough that I was refuelled.

  I nodded, and rose, vaguely aware of Maria as she explained where we were headed next. The little rolling suitcase wheeled noisily behind me. Tuning it all out, I thought about what had just happened.

  In the past, when I had taken energy from a force line, it had been a flood, coursing through me with such force that my body urged to move and to respond to the energy I fed it. This time was different, though. I had controlled the flow with more precision, consciously aware of how close Maria was, and not daring to alert her to my secret.

  I felt great. I felt refreshed. Most of all, I felt alive. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Chapter Four

  “Hey! Where are your glasses?” Maria asked after we had placed our order with the waitress. We had stopped into a little bistro for lunch, even though I hadn’t felt hungry. The energy from this morning was still flowing through me. Enjoying my secret thrill, I had also taken more energy throughout the day, sampling from different force lines we passed. My body felt full. I ordered a small soup, hoping I could force most of it down so Maria wouldn’t be concerned with my lack of appetite.

  “You’re just noticing now?” I laughed. “I switched back to my contacts earlier this morning. My glasses were bugging me. I think the prescription might be off.” I hoped my lie was convincing; I had been rehearsing it in my head all day waiting until she noticed the change. I refused to wear those glasses anymore until I spoke to Connor.

  “Well, I was preoccupied!” she defended. I had counted on this. She had been so determined and focused all day that I knew she wouldn’t have noticed if I danced a tango with a store clerk.

  I was preoccupied now, too. Outside the window of the restaurant a movement caught my eye. It had been fast, far too fast for any normal person to notice; even with my exceptional vision I could only just make it out. Something large and grey had ran- no, flew past the window. I was sure it wasn’t a bird, though it clearly had wings. Its face was hard and chiselled, and it had a fierce expression.

  It flew by once more and our eyes met. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for a terrifying chill to run down my spine. It was gone before I could blink. Maria shuddered too, and I wondered if s
he had felt the steely gaze on her back, or if it was just coincidence.

  She turned though, looking back to the window as if she knew something had happened. When she looked back at me, I caught a brief flash of fear in her eyes.

  “What is it?” I asked, as though I knew nothing.

  “Oh,” she answered with a hint of sheepishness in her voice. She thought for a moment, composing her answer. I wondered what she was editing out for me. Maria usually blurted out the first thing on her mind. She didn’t really have filters. “I guess I just felt like someone was walking over my grave or something.” Her voice shook slightly. There was no mistaking her fearful undertones.

  We didn’t talk much over lunch. Maria seemed shaken. She spent most of her time texting Justin, presumably to calm her nerves. I didn’t mind. I spent the silence thinking about whatever it was that had passed by the window.

  The creature was definitely magical; there was no doubt in my mind. The question was, what was it, and was it really interested in me? Or was the fly-by mere coincidence?

  After gaining my new sight, it became easy to see all the mythical beings that were normally disguised as regular people. You’d be surprised how many faeries there are walking around. I’m surprised their wings don’t get bashed around more. I suppose it’s another kind of magic that made people naturally avoid them. I had seen one faerie walk through a crowd outside a record store so gracefully that his wings didn’t even bend in the masses. People just subconsciously stepped out of the way. It was all very normal.

  And let me tell you, pixies are everywhere. They fly about in greater numbers than insects on a hot summer day. I was so used to seeing them now that I barely noticed when they flew into me (which they did often, most likely because of the speed which they zipped around). They hit regular people too, all the time. You know that feeling when you think a bug has flown into your eye? Pixie. Or when you have a little itch on your arm? Pixie. Or while walking down the street you trip on nothing? Pixie.

 

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