Finally, Jade, please know I love you. I wish there had been a way for us to have this conversation before I died, but you had to go through things on your own first. I wish you could continue to live as a normal student and then young woman and live your life like all the people around you, but you will forever be different. Part of your fate involves taking another path, apart from the rest of the world. Please be careful which way you choose to turn down that path each time you approach a fork in the road of your future. No matter what, your path now must lead you away from Zach and his family. If you are with them now, you must leave—the sooner, the better. I cannot thank them enough for taking you in, but it would not be right to repay them with the danger you bring with you.
Take care of yourself, Jade. We will see each other again.
Love,
Aunt Lynn
By the time I finished reading the letter, my fever had subsided to low grade, and I finally felt lucid enough to begin reading the book, if only I could concentrate on it. Aunt Lynn’s letter shook me to the core. No wonder she had to wait and deliver things this way. If she had laid this on me before I had experienced the past several weeks, I would have simply shut down and shut her out. I could hardly imagine my reaction since I wasn’t doing too well with all of this information as it was.
How could I leave Zach and his family? If I had put them in danger, then the danger already existed. I had to stay to protect them. She couldn’t expect me to leave. Yet, that was exactly what her letter told me to do. I struggled with this, but I couldn’t find a way to leave them without putting them in more danger, at least for the time being, so I chose to ignore my aunt’s request.
Then there was the bit about the rare gifts. I knew I had never met another firestarter. The only other time traveler I knew was one of the two men responsible for my mother’s death, though I wasn’t sure which one. Since having two rare gifts seemed to be somewhat of an anomaly, I assumed that Evan was the time traveler—Cameron having already confessed a gift for premonition. And here I was. Three gifts. Extremely rare. Well, I didn’t need the warning from Aunt Lynn to know not to share my third gift with anyone. I counted myself lucky that I had made the decision not to share the gift with anyone as a child. Aunt Lynn may have suspected, but in truth, no one knew I had three gifts—a freak of nature even amongst witches.
I mulled all of this over while lying in bed under a light blanket. I listened as the house emptied, closing my eyes and feigning sleep when Zach’s mother came in to check on me before leaving for work. When silence filled the empty space, I pulled back the blanket and stretched in the thin beams of sunlight making their way into the room through the closed blinds. I walked to the dresser and grabbed a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I considered grabbing a bikini and spending my first day feeling better lying out by the pool, but then I settled on hanging out in the shade so I could focus on the book. I grabbed a set of undergarments and headed to the shower.
After lying in bed sick for a few days, it felt immensely good to stand under the warm water. I washed my hair twice to get rid of the slick, oily feeling. The brunette hair of May had almost entirely faded out. I could see more red than brown as I dried my hair in front of the mirror. I made a mental note to buy more hair dye. Since I was so focused on seeking vengeance, I mused over the idea of dying it black. Dark hair for a dark purpose. I almost laughed aloud at the thought.
Before I started studying, I had to clean the room I was sleeping in and clear out the air of sickness. I threw the sheets in the washer downstairs, turning the water temperature to hot. I left the thin comforter in a heap on the floor of the laundry room, patiently awaiting its turn at purification. Even though it was insanely hot and humid outside—July in Florida is really no fun, but it’s better than August—I opened the bedroom window and turned the fan on full blast. I needed some fresh air in the room, but I would have to close the window after an hour or so. Zach’s mom would not be happy about her a/c pushing cool air into the great outdoors.
I grabbed the book from under my bed—I know, not a creative hiding place—and went downstairs. After indulging in jelly toast and a glass of apple juice, I settled into the large leather couch in the living room. The couch was a sectional that wrapped around half of the room. I sat in the corner. A large white, brick fireplace took up the opposite wall—crowned by an equally immense flat screen television. I turned on a music station and turned the sound down. I wanted background noise, but not something distracting.
Opening the book, I could see it was divided into sections: General Laws of Magic, Origins of Magic, Spells, and Rare Gifts. I knew a little bit about family books of magic. Every one of these, regardless of the family, would have some of the same things in it. There were general spells that all witches shared. Our ancestors wrote these spells and shared them with each other. Sometimes a witch would write a new spell and decide to share it with others. If she or he wrote it on the communal spell pages, the spell would appear in all family books. I guess witches had their own Internet system long before computers. If the witch wrote the spell on the family pages, the spell stayed only in that book. Not many new spells appeared on the communal pages.
The General Laws of Magic would also be identical no matter which family book you opened. However, these were not so easy to change or add to as the communal spells. No one knew of a witch powerful enough to write a new law. There were stories about witches who had created addendums and changed, ever so slightly, current laws, but no one who had been able to write a new law. I remembered Aunt Lynn telling me about this and stressing it. The General Laws of Magic were the guiding code of witches. There were other laws, specific to rare gifts, but the laws that applied to everyone were in the front section of the book.
The history of witches filled the pages of the Origins of Magic section. This, too, remained the same regardless of the book you opened. Aunt Lynn had made me study this section on more occasions than I cared to remember. She insisted I learn our history before I could learn how to harness my abilities fully. Basically, the gist of the story is a group of people long ago found an unusual object. This may have been thousands of years ago, but it was somewhere in the European continent. When they touched it, it filled them with magic. When they went back to where it had been, they could no longer find it. It sounded a lot like Anastasia’s story about the Fountain of Youth.
Except, unlike Anastasia and her family who have eternity to contemplate their encounter, these witches lived the normal life expectancies of anyone else, but with unusual benefits. They formed the first coven, and vowed to keep their new abilities a secret. They assumed, since the object apparently vanished, the abilities would vanish with the end of each person’s life.
Then they began finding spouses and having children. They met in secret frequently and soon discovered their children also had these strange abilities. They wrote out the first rudimentary book of witchcraft and placed a spell on it binding all in their coven and all of their descendants to the book. As their families broke off from the coven, they were granted a copy of the book. The language in the books has changed, but all family books have come from that first coven of witches.
I thought I should review the first section. I flipped to the General Laws of Magic. The introduction boasted the warning, “Violating any of the laws of magic will result in severe consequences relative to the offense.” I could tell even this warning had been changed by someone, a powerful witch at some point in history who decided that severe consequences needed to be amended. The words, “relative to the offense,” were in a different script than the initial warning.
This was followed with the information, “Laws may be added or amended if the law is just and the witch has the abilities to substantiate the change.” This was vague, but I knew the gist of it. Only a powerful witch could change or add to the General Laws of Magic, and he or she also needed a good reason for doing so. The book mentioned nothing about removing laws. If a witch ad
ded a law or amended a law to the book, then the assumption stood that the law needed to be in the book, all magic books, for a reason.
The General Laws of Magic were fairly simple. Since the amendment about relative consequences, each law included a consequence, some more severe than others. I read on to the first three laws.
“No spell may be created or used that will kill a person by means of the spell alone. Consequence: Death.” Again, the first part of the law was in one script. The consequence was in another script. The addition of “by means of the spell alone,” was in a third script. This one law had been changed twice. It made sense to me, but it chilled me to the bone at the same time. Witches should be able to protect themselves and in a situation where it required either killing or being killed, a witch should be able to use his or her abilities to help the odds in their favor. However, that addition of “by means of the spell alone,” is what enabled Evan to kill my mother. His spell merely propelled the knife that killed her to snake through her body, so he did not simply kill her with a spell. He murdered her with a knife, not a spell. The spells he used on her to paralyze her and to twist the knife through her body did not directly kill her in and of themselves. Therefore, he did not get the consequence of death. The law remained unbroken.
I gained more resolution reading this first law. Evan deserved the consequence even if it didn’t come from directly breaking the law. The beauty of being a firestarter was that by the nature of my rare gift, I could kill. I was a lethal weapon, and that, combined with the fact I could also time travel and apparently take others with me, made me a prize for Guardians and Shadow Rulers alike. I imagined I would also be pursued by Hunters if they knew of my existence. I would deal with that when it came time. For now, only Anastasia and Chase knew where I was. I moved on to the next law.
“No spell may be created or used to permanently alter the state of another without consent. Consequence: Permanent reversal of desired state or permanent mental incapacity for offender—whichever the offender deems worse.” This law contained five different scripts. It appeared that the original law merely stated, “No spell may be created or used to alter the state of another.” Everything else represented additions made by powerful witches. I wondered how long ago the original laws had actually been written. More importantly, I wondered how long ago anyone had been able to add or change a law. Apparently, there were several witches powerful enough to do so, but I had never heard of any of them specifically. Not like that was saying much since I had spent most of my life trying not to be a witch.
The third law was one I knew. “All spells must be performed silently in order to protect all witches from exposure. First offense: laryngitis for no less than one month; second offense: inability to speak for 1 year; third offense: permanent loss of vocal abilities.” This law came about sometime during the witch-hunts in Europe, which were far worse than even the current death toll of Salem. By reciting an incantation silently, it drew less attention. Witches, and more importantly innocent people accused of being witches, were kept relatively safe since this law helped stifle rumors about real witches.
I scanned further down the page to the section about contracts. We, well I, had burned many contracts that Evan had apparently collected over the years. There were laws about contracts, but most of the laws were made to establish the use of contracts. I flipped to the Origins of Magic section and scanned for more information. Apparently, contracts were added into the General Laws of Magic as a way for witches to give up their abilities if they no longer wished to be a witch. It also gave Guardians the ability to peacefully combat Shadow Rulers or witches who appeared to be on the path to becoming a Shadow Ruler. If you could get one of these witches to sign a contract relinquishing their abilities, you would quietly stifle the threat that witch represented without violence. Of course, it seemed to me like that would be like bringing a candlesnuffer to put out a forest fire in the case of Evan and Cameron. I had no doubt I would need to use my gift to put an end to their destruction.
I got lost in the pages of the book on General Laws and Origins of Magic for several hours. By the time I looked up from the book, the clock on the cable box read one o’clock and my stomach growled. I wanted to spend time practicing in the fireplace and maybe a few spells from the spell pages, but just as I thought about taking a quick break and getting right back to work, someone knocked on the door. My first intention was not to answer. I could pretend no one was home or I was still sleeping off my summer flu, but I glanced towards the door, and through the glass at the top of the door, I could see Anastasia’s strange aura radiating.
“I wasn’t expecting a visitor, but it’s nice to see you,” I greeted her at the door.
“I thought you were feeling better,” Anastasia stated matter-of-factly. Something about her exuded otherness. I knew this had to do with her immortality, but my aunt’s letter had indicated something more.
I would have welcomed her in, but she was already in the living room before I could speak. She looked back at the book in my arms and scanned the room, the fireplace in particular.
“Doing some reading?” she asked.
“Yeah, I haven’t had a chance to read much, what with being miserably sick and all. How did you know I was better?”
“Just a feeling,” she muttered while still looking around the room. “You haven’t been practicing at all, have you?”
“No, but that’s really not any of your business.” I regretted it as soon as I said it. So far, Anastasia had been more helpful to me than anyone.
“I’m just trying to help. I don’t know if it changes anything, but you are easier to track if you are practicing. You told me to give you a warning. It’s dangerous.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. If she were delivering a message to me from me, what was there to say? She didn’t time travel. These messages only worked in one direction.
Anastasia stared at me in silence for a moment, and I couldn’t help fidgeting with the book.
“Chase might be able to put a protective spell on the house so you can practice, but I don’t know if he is powerful enough yet to really blanket your spells. He’d have to be more powerful than you.”
I thought to ask her how she knew this, but I was probably the one who told her in the first place. Time travel was number one on my list of super-complexities. All I could do was go with the flow. Thinking too hard about it could probably put me into a coma.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” Anastasia offered. I wanted to stay and practice spells, despite my warning, but I didn’t think she planned on taking no for an answer.
“Let me put the book away. I’ll be right back.” I left Anastasia standing in the living room to run upstairs, hide the book, and grab my purse. I heard a motorcycle passing the house and glanced out the window in time to see Chase speeding by. I wondered if he was keeping tabs on me or on Anastasia.
When I got downstairs, Anastasia stood exactly where I had left her. We headed out the door, and got in her beat-up truck. Anastasia was the opposite of Stefanie. She didn’t need to fill the silence in the car, and she certainly didn’t have any awe-filled admiration for me. It was too hot to roll the windows down, so we drove with the air on full blast. We ended up at Osteen’s eating fried shrimp and French fries. Usually, I would have eaten everything on my plate in ten minutes flat, but today I just sipped on my Coke and ate a few shrimp, picking at the fries.
“How are you doing?” Anastasia asked with the concern of an old friend.
I mentally made the decision to fall as comfortably into the roll of old friend as I could with an immortal girl who already knew more about me than I did myself.
“I’m hanging in there,” I lied.
That wasn’t as easy as I had thought. She stared me down with a look that said, now tell me the truth, and that is exactly what I did. I poured my heart out over fried shrimp. I was terrified. I suspected Chase might be right about me. I wanted nothing more
than to seek out my mother’s killer and finish him off, but I feared that as much as I desired it. The only thing I didn’t mention was my dreams about Cameron. I had a feeling that was too private to share, or maybe too dangerous. I wasn’t sure they were dreams or what they meant either way, so I wasn’t ready to hash them out with anyone else.
Anastasia sat and listened patiently to every word. When I was done, I couldn’t help but ask her.
“How does it all turn out? Do I kill them? Am I the same afterwards?”
She placed her hand over mine and met my eyes with hers. I suddenly felt much more calm and at ease. The wave of panic that had been creeping up on me over the past weeks receded.
“You pursue them. I honestly don’t know how it all turns out. Like I said, you don’t want me to share too much with you. You don’t want me locking you into one outcome or another.”
“I do if it’s the outcome I want,” I pouted.
“Not if it means losing control of your destiny and your ability to make choices. This is a decision you made after years of time traveling. Nothing I can say will convince you. Only time.”
“That’s lousy.” I shoved a fry in my mouth and washed it down with what was left of my Coke. Anastasia didn’t seem to have anything else to say, so we finished our lunches to the sound of people chatting all around us.
Anastasia drove me home. She warned me again not to practice any spells.
“See you tomorrow,” she called out from her truck before she pulled away. I watched the truck drive out of the cookie-cutter neighborhood. It might blend in other places, but it looked about twenty thousand dollars out of place here. I noticed a boy walking on the sidewalk across the street. He looked out of place, too. He was dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt in the middle of July. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he kept looking over his shoulder nervously. His bluish-gray aura broadcast trouble in this neighborhood. I wondered whose house he was casing. Maybe he planned to burglarize all of them. He didn’t look older than sixteen. He also looked vaguely familiar.
Flames in the Midst (The Jade Hale Series) Page 15