Tala Prophecy: The Complete Series

by Tia Silverthorne Bach

  Reagan couldn’t imagine watching her own dad walk out the door, not knowing what he would face. Or, worse, fearing what he might face. When Reagan thought about that night with Sam, what might have happened to her father as he chased after some unknown thing in the woods, she couldn’t breathe. She could only imagine what her mother was feeling the night her dad walked out of the house. What they all were.

  Nana wrapped her arm around Sarah and took another turn. “If we’d only known he wouldn’t make it.” Nana’s eyes were overflowing with tears. “I never would’ve let him go. Not until we had more information. Your mother can’t forgive me for that. I have yet to forgive myself.”

  Reagan stood up, walked behind both women, and wrapped them in her arms. They shared a pain few could understand. She only wished her mom was here to be in the hug, to understand they all needed each other.

  “We’ve all lost so much already. I just want you and your mother to be a part of our family. Your dad, too.” Nana leaned into Reagan’s hug.

  “Me, too. Have you tried telling Mom that?” Reagan asked, wondering if it could be that simple.

  Aunt Sarah looked at Nana. “Tell her the rest.”

  Reagan braced for the rest, unsure she wanted to know anything else that tore them apart.

  “Your mother came to me years later, when she was trying to get pregnant. She asked for my help, to do a spell that would allow her to have children. Sarah and I came up with some herbs and blessings, but we also told her souls are meant to find their mother; you would come when you were ready. She was impatient and blamed me for failing her yet again.”

  “But she had me,” Reagan said, confused.

  “She had you five years later. They’d been with an infertility doctor for several years. He got the credit.” Nana shrugged. “Maybe he did help her. But I tried. Our spells work best in a positive, nurturing environment.”

  Reagan backed away and walked around to the other side of the table so she was facing them. “Spells? Really, you two do spells?” Doubt crept into her brain and started to take over. What was she doing here? Was she really ready to look past everything she’d ever known and believe her grandmother and aunt had powers and could work magic? That Mom had the same abilities and refused to acknowledge them? Or that Reagan had them and never felt anything?

  “Why haven’t I ever felt these witch powers?” Both the women before her gave disapproving looks, so she rephrased. “I mean, why haven’t I ever felt the Wiccan side of me? Wouldn’t I know?”

  “Do you remember the few visits you had with us, before your mom cut us off completely?” Nana asked.

  Reagan nodded.

  “I wanted to see your abilities, and I knew your mom hadn’t shown you anything. I took you on a walk. We sat down in a nearby park, and I told you to close your eyes and chant with me. A simple rain spell. You didn’t question me. You simply did as I asked. The heavens opened up. You were a natural.”

  Reagan beamed at the idea of being a natural. She couldn’t help herself. “I don’t remember that.”

  “Your mom got so angry when she saw me showing you our ways. She couldn’t bear the thought anything would ever happen to you, like what happened to her father. That’s when she told me never to come back. I’m surprised you don’t remember it, though. You were almost six, and Sam was three. He was gifted, too. But more like your Papa. His gut instincts were incredible.”

  “Mom, I’ve never told you this, but Susie called me after her visit. She wanted a spell to make the children forget about their powers. I wanted so badly for her to trust me, to want to be sisters again. I helped her. It’s the last time I ever heard from her.”

  “Oh, Sarah. You didn’t.” Nana dropped her head to the table.

  Reagan couldn’t process another piece of information. It was all so overwhelming. If Reagan and Sam had known about their powers, maybe Yellowstone would never have happened. Anger raged inside her. She stood up and threw her chair to the side. It knocked into an antique side table, and a couple of crystals fell to the tile floor. One shattered.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She didn’t mean to keep lashing out. Since Sam’s death, there were so many emotions swirling through her; too often, anger was the ruling one. She’d never felt so out of control. Her reactions were getting more intense with each passing day.

  Reagan bent down and started cleaning up the pieces. One caught the edge of her hand, and she started bleeding. The sharp pain made her suck in a breath. She sat down on the floor, exhausted, and allowed her arms to flop at her sides. “I don’t know what I think or believe. I know all I ever cared about before Yellowstone was what I wore, how my hair looked, and what color nail polish would work best.”

  Aunt Sarah and Nana came over and sat down next to Reagan on the floor. “We know, honey. We don’t have all the answers, either. And I know your mom loves you. Susie’s lost, and she did what she did because she thought it would protect you.” Aunt Sarah’s words were probably meant to help, but they just pissed Reagan off.

  “It didn’t protect Sam.”

  Breakfast drained her badly, so Reagan jumped at the chance to take a walk through Nana’s herb garden. Anything to get away from the topic of witchcraft. Sunshine warmed Reagan’s back, and she started sweating. They walked through row after row of plants, most of which looked the same. But, Nana recited the names and what some of them did.

  Reagan saw a plant near the edge that seemed to grow separate. “What does this one do? It looks interesting.”

  Nana chuckled a bit, lifting her gloved hand to her face to try and hide it. “That’s mint, dear. I use it for my favorite tea.”

  Some witch instincts! Reagan didn’t know mint leaves from sage or jasmine. As they walked through the garden, Nana mentioned their Wiccan names. “In our ceremonies, I’m known as Jasmine and your aunt is known as Sage. They’re our Wiccan names. Every Wiccan has a name he or she is drawn to, that shows something about his or her gifts.”

  “What was my mother’s name?” Reagan asked.

  “That’s something only she can share with you. Your mom is showing a lot of love by letting you come here. I know it was hard for her. But I think she’s questioning a lot of things since your brother’s death. The same way I questioned things after your grandfather’s death.”

  “Did she stop being Wiccan?” Reagan wondered if that’s what her Nana meant by questioning.

  “You can’t stop. I think your mom knows that. You can suppress it, but it’s part of your true nature.”

  Reagan wondered what her true nature was. Were the dreams trying to show her something? Or were they just the result of some post traumatic stress she was suffering since losing Sam? Her head pounded with all the questions.

  Nana took Reagan by the hand and led her to an iron bench at the end of the garden path. “I know this is frustrating.”

  Reagan sank into her grandmother’s embrace. “So much has changed since Sam’s death. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know there’s something I need to figure out. Now the dreams have all but gone away. I have flashes here and there and, of course, there’s Sam’s voice.”

  “How’s that an issue?”

  Reagan looked up at Nana, trying to figure out what she really meant. It was impossible. “Nana, most people don’t hear their dead brother talking to them.”

  “You aren’t most people. That’s what I want you to see. You have gifts. It’s in your blood. I’m not sure why Yellowstone sparked your recognition of it, but it’s always been there.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Sam.

  A blinding pain followed his statement. Reagan winced.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” Nana closed her eyes and put her hand on Reagan’s head. Reagan could tell from the way Nana pulled her head back and squeezed her eyes shut more tightly she felt it as well. “Reagan, how long have you been feeling pain like this?”

  “Since Yellowstone. It often hurts when Sam speaks to me.”

  N
ana took a moment. “The reason I gave you the necklace was to protect you, but I’m wondering if it’s keeping you from visions you need to have.”

  What she was saying slowly dawned on Reagan. “No, I can’t live through those dreams anymore. They’re awful. There can’t possibly be anything for me to learn from them.”

  “Do you trust me?” Nana asked.

  Calm washed over Reagan. “Yes, I do.”

  “Let’s try something tonight.” Nana hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Don’t wear your necklace. As you’re falling asleep, try to remember the details of that night. The dreams might have some clues about what’s going on; about what really happened. You need to embrace it. Sarah and I will both be here. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Then where were you that night, Reagan wondered. But she had to find some answers, to figure out how to be herself again without the fear. Maybe her subconscious just needed to reveal something so she’d feel better. Possibly.

  Sweat formed on her brow and she felt feverish, but she knew what she had to do. “Okay but please promise me one thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “Wake me up if something freaks you out.” Reagan let the words flow, but she wasn’t quite sure where they came from.

  ↄↄↄↄↄ

  Reagan took extra time brushing her teeth and combing her hair. She even applied moisturizer, something she never did. The stall tactics wouldn’t work forever, so she opened the bathroom door. Nana and Sarah were sitting on the bed.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Aunt Sarah said. “We won’t let anything happen. We’ll be right here.”

  “But if you’re here, I might not dream. I never had a dream when I was sleeping with Nana.”

  The women exchanged looks. Reagan could tell by their expressions she was right.

  “You have a point,” Nana said. She squeezed Reagan’s hand, “But we won’t be far away. Don’t be afraid. Try to have some control in the dream. Be the overseer; don’t just let it happen to you.”

  That sounded simple, but nothing about these dreams was simple. She didn’t know how she would fight the fear. Aunt Sarah and Nana each kissed Reagan on the forehead and told her how much they loved her. They left the room, leaving the door open. Reagan settled into the bed, but sleep evaded her for hours. Everything she tried failed.

  Giving up, she walked into the kitchen. Aunt Sarah was there.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  “No, I just keep tossing and turning. I know I’m fighting it, but . . .” Reagan stopped. Realization hit her hard. “Wait, the most intense dreams came when I took the sleeping meds. Do you have anything you could give me?”

  Sarah filled a kettle with water and turned the gas on high. “I have a simple herb mixture you can drink that should do the trick.”

  “Thanks.” Reagan waited in silence. The sound of the tea kettle going off startled them both.

  Reagan settled back into her room, the warmness of the tea still in her belly. She pulled out her phone to check emails. Since coming to Georgia, she’d disconnected. Tomorrow was her last day.

  There were just a few messages; nothing she had to answer. Her friends seemed to sense her need to get away. Even Rafe hadn’t texted or emailed. Her mom had also shown restraint, sending simple notes expressing her love.

  Reagan scooted down into the covers, turned on her side, and closed her eyes.

  ↄↄↄↄↄ

  Darkness.

  Reagan forced herself to focus within the dream, to not let fear take hold. She looked around. She was still in the tent.

  Screaming. She had to get out, to try and see what was happening. Slowly she peeled back the flap leading outside. Her eyes took several seconds to adjust.

  Focus and breathe, Reagan told herself.

  Before she could see anything, she felt the presence. She whirled around. There he was, golden eyes shining. He came at her with a deliberate slowness.

  “Finally trying to figure this out, huh?” the wolf asked.

  There was a familiarity in his voice, but Reagan couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was on the tip of her memories, she could feel it.

  “I need some answers.” The voice startled her, but it was her own. She couldn’t believe she was able to speak, that she was talking to a giant wolf. Before, she thought it was a dark gray, now she realized it was a gorgeous shade of brown; sable.

  “You aren’t ready.”

  “I decide when I’m ready,” she growled. Yes, she heard herself growl. She felt like she was standing taller, stronger.

  “You’re getting closer,” the wolf said, as it started to circle her.

  Shots fired. The wolf reared back and knocked her down. It leaned in so close that Reagan could feel its hot breath on her neck. “Don’t fight fate. We aren’t the bad guys.”

  Then the pain.

  Reagan started to slip away, but just before she did, she felt someone turn her over. She blinked, trying to clear up the blurriness. It was her mother. She was chanting something.

  “Mom? Mom!”

  ↄↄↄↄↄ

  “Reagan, it’s okay. We’re here.”

  Reagan jerked to an upright position and fought the escalating pain in her head. “Nana?”

  “Yes, dear, it’s me. Aunt Sarah’s here, too.”

  Reagan needed a minute to process her dream before she started sharing it. She’d never seen anyone but the wolf in the dream before. Of course, she hadn’t talked to the wolf before, either—which made a lot of sense. People didn’t have conversations with wolves.

  “The wolf talked to me, and Mom was there. She was chanting something, but I couldn’t make it out.”

  Nana turned on the light in the room, then came back to sit next to Reagan on the bed. Aunt Sarah never moved. “Try to remember, Reagan. What was your mother saying?”

  Reagan squeezed her eyes shut but nothing surfaced. “I can’t make it out,” she said, as she exhaled and deflated back against her pillow.

  “It’s okay,” Aunt Sarah said. “You said the wolf talked to you. What did it say?”

  Those words Reagan would never forget. “He seemed happy that I was trying to, ‘figure this out’ as he said. Then there was something about fate and him not being the bad guy.” Reagan didn’t mention how much clearer her image was of him.

  “I’ll be honest with you—I’m not sure what to make of it. Our beliefs include talk of animal spirits, and your grandfather mentioned a Sioux belief about shape-shifting humans to me one time. That was his fear about the animal attacks back then; evil forces were taking over humans and making them kill. He never shared much about it with me. I always sensed he was trying to protect me from something.”

  From witches to shape-shifting humans. Nana really should write some young adult books, she’d make a killing.

  “It’s weird, though. This time, I wasn’t afraid of the wolf.”

  “I really think we should sit down with your mom and talk about this when we get back to Colorado. Mention that you remember her being there.”

  Dr. Ableman entered Reagan’s head. “She’ll just tell the shrink and get me a customized straight jacket.” Reagan could see their next session. Her mom would tell the doctor that Reagan believed wolves talked and that she was from a family of witches.

  “Your mother doesn’t want you sent away. Trust me.”

  Nana’s logic seemed solid, but Reagan feared her mom would think she was saving Reagan from something—trusting the medical professionals to help her and turning away from the ways of the family. Still, Nana would be there to help the conversation.

  “What about Rafe?” Reagan asked. During their trip, he asked her to try and remember. “He’s said some really weird things to me.”

  “I did get a strange vibe off him. When I touched him, I felt pain; like touching a hot pan.” Nana shuddered.

  “I knew it. I could tell when he shook your hand.”

  “I wouldn’t trust him too much ye
t. Let’s start with your mother and go from there.”

  ↄↄↄↄↄ

  Aunt Sarah dropped them off at the airport. Reagan gave the wild lady a hug just before the security line, lingering for a bit.

  “I’m gonna miss you. I’m so glad we had this time together,” Aunt Sarah said. “I know your mom is gonna come around. I can feel it.”

  Reagan’s hopes were boosted by the conviction in her aunt’s voice. “I’m going to miss you, too. Please keep in touch. You can text me anytime.”

  Another hug, and Reagan and Nana headed through security and to their gate. Reagan had a five-hour flight to try and figure out how to talk to her mother.

  Getting off the plane in Denver was a relief because the last twenty minutes of the flight had been filled with turbulence and nausea-inducing maneuvers. Reagan’s legs felt shaky as she exited the plane and started walking toward baggage claim. Nana looked queasy, too.

  They hit the first set of bathrooms and then made their way to the tram. As soon as they came up from the station, Reagan saw her mom waiting near some benches.

  Mom made her way over and pulled Reagan into a hug. “I missed you so much. You, too, Mom.”

  Reagan noticed a smile take over Nana’s face. There was hope for them yet. “We missed you, too.”

  “How’s Sarah?”

  Reagan wasn’t sure which of them Mom was asking, but decided to answer. “Great. She misses you.”

  Mom’s expression was unreadable. “Let’s go get your bags and head home. Your dad is looking forward to seeing you.”

  It took thirty minutes for the luggage to start rolling around the belt, but their bags were some of the first few to come down. Grabbing them, the ladies headed to the parking garage.

  “Serena and Aspen dropped off your assignments. It doesn’t look too bad, probably because school just got started.”

  Worrying about homework was a nice change of pace. Reagan realized just how much her life had changed. Before, she’d always thought homework was the height of stress.