Magic Incarnate the Box Set 1-3, page 47
The bear is sniffing the ground, and I can swear it’s still gaining on us.
I swallow hard and join the others, sitting and holding my legs to my chest. “We need a plan in case the bear attacks,” I whisper, my lips hardly moving.
“I can’t.” Shira shakes her head empathically.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because.” She undoes her braid and starts to braid it all over again.
“You eat meat, don’t you?” Gavin asks.
“Y-yes…” she answers reluctantly.
“Then what’s the big deal?”
“Must you two bicker over everything?” I grumble. “Shira, you can do something with your shaman power, right?”
“Not without potions.”
“Do you have any?”
“No, but…” She starts to rummage through her huge purse. “I have a lot of ingredients for stuff.”
“Should’ve made potions awhile ago,” Gavin mutters.
I kinda agree but don’t voice that out loud. “Okay, Gavin. Remember how you were able to heal us?”
It’s dark in the land cave, but I’m pretty sure his cheeks turn pink. “I don’t exactly remember what I said,” he confesses.
I manage to not slap my palm against my forehead. “Try to remember. And also, work on conjuring fire. Think hot thoughts.”
“What about you?” he asks.
“Don’t worry about me.”
And I toss the bag down, grip the short sword, and race out of the land cave.
And straight into the path of the black bear.
Chapter 22
I’m so stupid. So incredibly stupid. I should’ve shapeshifted first. I never should’ve left the cave in the first place. I should’ve continued running to try and lure the bear away from my friends.
Instead, I’m standing directly in front of the bear, so close the bear’s nose is almost touching my stomach as he sniffs me. Somehow, I keep still, even though inwardly, I’m shaking so much I should be on the ground, unable to support myself.
As if from far away, I can hear my friends talking, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Their words are muffled. Or maybe it’s because my heart is beating so loudly that I can’t hear them above the sound. Thump. Thump.
The bear stares right at me.
Thump. I bring up the dagger. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The bear blinks and then lowers onto all fours.
My hand trembles, and my fingers relinquish the dagger. Thump. Thump. The weapon falls onto the grass beside my feet.
“Why are you here?” I whisper. My heart is still beating fast, but I’m not quite so frightened anymore as I kneel in front of the bear so our eyes are level. “Who sent you?”
The bear makes a low rumbling sound, not really a growl, but not pleasant sounding either.
The bear slumps down and rolls onto his back.
There’s a huge wound there.
I gasp and jerk to my feet. The stench is terrible. As my gaze shifts from the deep wound, I can make out the bear’s trail toward us. It’s marked by the blood-stained grass he left behind.
“You’re dying,” I whisper.
The bear makes that rumbling sound again, although the noise is fainter this time.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, even though I think I know the answer.
The bear’s chest rises and falls, even after the bear closes his eyes.
The wound is deep, the bear’s organs visible. The stench is enough to make me gag. “What happened to you?” I murmur.
My fear is gone. All I care about is the pain in the bear’s eyes. I rub the top of his head, his fur soft but also prickly.
The bear jerks his head and forces my hand from his face.
“What is it? You don’t want to be touched?”
I hear the others stirring from the cave. I shake my head and hope they realize they need to stay back.
“What do you want from me?” I repeat.
A low groan comes from the bear.
“Your wound… it’ll kill you, won’t it?” I rub his arm this time, which the bear accepts.
A flash comes to me, and I see the bear trying to find food, to kill it, to fish. The bear failing and growing weaker by the hour. The bear being chased by other animals. The bear dying a terrible death.
But not if I could help it.
Ignoring the knife by my foot. I touch the bear’s head against, my fingers resting on the spot between his eyes. Dear Lord, I ask that you watch over this animal and keep him with you.
Whether or not animals go to heaven, it doesn’t matter. The prayer was as much for me as it was for him.
I place both hands on the bear’s face and closed my eyes. Although his pulse has to be weak, I can feel it through his fur. After taking a deep breath, I try to will his heart to sound even softer and softer until I can’t even hear it.
It doesn’t work.
My death touch with the flower. I had felt so much rage and fear and raw hopelessness. I lacked control.
I still lack control now, although it’s a different kind of control I’m without now.
Even so, I close my eyes and focus on my own emotions, on how much rage I feel for being forced from my home and my old life, on my fear that I’ll never see my mom and friends again, and the raw hopelessness that was my new powers and how much I hate them.
When I open my eyes, the bear’s wound doesn’t just cover his stomach. It stretches all the way up to his chest, the fur and skin pulled apart, his ribs too, so that I can see his heart. It beats—thump—a few times—thump, thump—and then his heart stills.
The bear is dead.
Trembling, I shakily climb to my feet. Then I collapse back to the ground to retrieve my short sword. The hilt feels slippery in my hands, and that’s when I realize blood coats my fingers and palms. I try to wipe the blood away on the grass and leaves, but nothing works. My hands are bloodstained. And they are, regardless of the actual blood on my hands. I killed a bear. And shamans. And witches. I’m a killer.
The thought churns my stomach so much I lean over and vomit.
A huge leaf helps to wipe my mouth. “Come on out, guys,” I say, not bothering to raise my voice.
Gavin’s by my side instantly. “What…” His voice dies when he sees the bear. “What happened to it?”
I can’t bring myself to tell him. Hi, Gavin. I know you want to hold my hand and kiss me, but the thing is… I kinda have a death touch. Not all the time, but I can’t always hold it back, so… Basically, you need to leave me alone. Even though I feel so alone as it is.
Yeah, so not going into all of that with him.
Shira makes a gargled sound and kneels beside me and the bear. “You saved him.”
Oh, no. Not that again.
“I didn’t—“
She cuts off my protest. “You did. He would have suffered for days with that wound. You gave him a merciful death.”
“There’s no blood on your blade,” Gavin says. His gaze isn’t on the weapon. He’s staring at my hands.
I pick up the short sword. “Well, the bear issue is done. The bird…” Huh. “Nowhere in sight. Now we just need to figure out how to get out of this loop we’ve been in for days now.”
We talk and argue and fight over which way to go and how to read the map. Although Shira wants us to split up to cover more ground and maybe find a weakness in the witch’s spell, Gavin and I won’t have that.
Gavin’s great idea is to use the compass on his phone and to head southwest. “The compass will let us know if we’re going in circles or not,” he reasons.
By now, I’m starving. Because of the magic I used or because we haven’t been eating much lately, I don’t know. “Let’s find some small game and try to have a decent meal. We’ll all be able to think better after a full belly and a good night’s sleep.”
They reluctantly agree. Shira locates hare tracks, and Gavin manages to nab two. He cooks them over a fire, and we eat them eagerly.
Gavin takes the first watch, and I fall asleep almost immediately. Vince is there. He’s holding out his arms for a hug. I rush forward, but then he’s holding Bri. She’s crying for some reason, and he’s comforting her. Then she disappears, leaving only Vince there. He stares straight through me, but then he smiles, and my heart melts. He does see me!
We hug, and I kiss his cheek. Eventually, I pull back, wanting to talk to him, but I wail instead. He’s slumped over in my arms, his face ashen, his lips blue.
The death touch.
I wake and glance around guiltily. I would never ever do anything that might harm Vince or anyone else.
But you just killed an innocent bear, a voice in the back of my head says.
A bear that came to me to die, I argue back mentally.
Can you be sure of that? How many bears understand magic enough to know you would be able to end his suffering?
I don’t have an answer to that.
Even though I can rest for another hour, I relieve Gavin early. I take the map from him and try to make some sense of it. Silver Tiger could’ve given us more directions. She’d mentioned a cave. Does Kentucky have mountains? Or is it another land cave? Someone obviously doesn’t want us to reach the seer. The most logical guess is that shrouded witch. What did I ever do to her that she wants to prevent me from regaining my magic—if that’s even possible?
It’s dark out, darker than it’s been. Clouds cover the moon and most of the clouds, plunging us into darkness. The fire’s burning pretty low, and I gather some sticks and twigs to throw into it until it’s decently sized again.
The clouds gradually move, and I hold up the map to decipher the lines and numbers as best I can. Too bad there isn’t a zoom feature. That would be such a tremendous help right now.
More clouds roll in, and I sigh. The problem isn’t the map. It’s with the magic. How can I with my limited magic, a newbie witch, and a mostly magical-less shaman be able to combat a spell?
The short answer—we can’t.
I’m about ready to crinkle up the map and throw it into the fire when I spy some new writings on it. I hold the map up to my face to read it better, but the letters fade away. Disgusted, I rub my eyes. Must be seeing things. It is dark and then light and then dark again. It’s enough to make anyone see things.
Up close, I see nothing, so I hold the map out away from me, closer to the fire. And the letters, the writings, take shape again on the map, as if written just this very moment onto the map.
“Take shape. Take form. Pave the way to the cave,” I murmur aloud.
Now is that just wistful thinking, or does that sound like a chant to me?
Why didn’t Silver Tiger mention the chant to us in the first place? For that matter, why did she spell the map in the first place?
Because she doesn’t want the map to fall into other’s hands. And maybe because she knows others are after us. Maybe only a few people know where the seer lives. Now that makes sense. If everyone were to learn about the seer, a real person who can see the future and isn’t a hack, wouldn’t everyone knock down his door? And there’s always the possibility that someone wouldn’t like what he or she is told and go bonkers and kill the messenger.
Yeah, I can see why it’s important to keep hush about a seer. Interesting that at least one witch is keen to keep the seer’s location a secret, considering that witch doesn’t care for and has killed shamans, another magical being.
Ugh. Magic politics. It’s enough to give me a headache.
Gavin’s snoring loudly, and since we won’t be walking anywhere without a light source, there’s no point in waking him.
When my shift is over, I stir Shira. Once she’s awake enough that I can risk going back to sleep myself, I slip off into dreamland. This time, I change into my beast form and then back into human. But it’s painful, so painful I cry throughout the transformations. It feels like my bones are breaking and snapping, growing longer or shrinking. It’s terrible and terrifying, and when a hand touches my shoulder, I jerk and glance behind me, heart pounding, ready to scream or wail or cry….
“Sorry.” Gavin grins down at me. “I slept well. You?”
He’s safe. He’s fine. His touching me didn’t zap him of his life.
Which is wonderful, but just the notion that I have death touch is enough to make me want to move to Antarctica so I can be isolated and away from everyone.
“It’s amazing I got any sleep with you snoring so obnoxiously,” Shira calls as she stomps out the last remnants of our fire.
“I was asking Crystal, not you,” he retorts.
“Ah, but you’re not denying you snore.” Shira giggles.
“I may have…” he mutters, then shakes his head.
“Out with it!” Shira hops over and yanks on his arm. “Tell us!”
“I may have woken myself up once or twice,” he admits. “I can snore pretty loud at times.”
Shira and I laugh some more.
A handful of berries is all we have for breakfast. Once we finish eating and packing up, I turn to Gavin. “Ready for a new magic spell?”
He grimaces. “What do you have in mind?” he asks, sighing as if this was a great hardship for him.
I narrow my eyes. “Do you want to be a witch?”
“I am a witch,” he mutters.
“Then act like one and use spells.” I shove the map at him. “Hold this and repeat after me.”
“What, you came up with a chant?”
“I didn’t,” I murmur. “Don’t worry about that now. Just focus and concentrate, like you did before when you healed us.”
Shira doesn’t say anything, but she approaches, watching with great interest. She’s probably never seen a witch do magic before. Hopefully, that’ll change.
I really do hope and pray that’s the case.
“Are you ready?”
Gavin nods solemnly, like he’s too focused to talk.
“Okay. Good. Now repeat after me. Take shape. Take form. Pave the way to the cave.”
“Take shape. Take form. Pave the way to the cave,” he echoes.
“Again,” I urge.
“Take shape. Take form. Pave the way to the cave. Take shape. Take form. Pave the way to the cave. Take shape…” He thrusts the map back toward me. “It’s not working.”
“You’re trying too hard. Just relax and—“
“Relax? You want me to relax? How?” he demands, his voice sharp and harsh. “We have danger from nature and from that shrouded witch and who knows what else. I can’t protect you. Shira can’t. You—“
“I don’t need any more protection than you do, than Shira does.” I toss him back the map, but he doesn’t catch it, and it lazily falls to the ground at our feet. “I’m not some special—“
“Crystal, listen.” Shira sounds exactly like Bri when she’s in her you-better-listen-to-me-because-I’m-right tones. “Whether you want to be or not, you are special. You’re unique. You came back to life. You used to be magic, like the embodiment of magic. You still have magic.”
“Why can’t I just be an ordinary girl?” I grumble.
“Normal? Ordinary? Blech. You don’t want that. Not really.” Shira shakes her head. “Do not tell me you really want that! You can have it all! You have the ability to change the world!”
“How exactly?” I ask dryly. “By performing in a circus act as my beast self?”
“What’s the point of all of this then?” she demands, hand on her hips. “You’ve never really told me why we’re going where we’re going, and since someone is messing with us, it’s obviously really important that we see this thing through.”
“We’re going to see a seer,” Gavin says.
“Only if you can get the map to show us where he is.” I purse my lips.
“Why should I bother to even try when you don’t seem all that interested in regaining your magic?” He throws the words at me like they’re mini bombs.
“I…” Words fail me.
“Are you going to make me a liar, Crystal?” He glowers down at me, but I’m not frightened. The pain is back—the pain I saw in his eyes when I first came back to life.
“Of course not,” I murmur.
“I said—“
“I know. And I won’t. I won’t let you down. I won’t let Calder down.” I take a deep breath and release it slowly. “You won’t regret coming with me.”
“I haven’t yet,” he says, his tone much softer now.
I quickly kneel down to retrieve the map so he can’t kiss me, if that’s what he’s thinking. “Willing to try again then?”
“Yeah. Just…” He backs up a few steps. “Without an audience.” And he walks away and climbs a short nearby hill.
“You’re scared,” Shira comments.
“Yeah. Being magic… It was fun and cool and exciting, but it was also terrifying, and I don’t know if I’m ready to be magic again. I mean, I miss it. I miss the rush of flying. The ability to juggle fireballs? Now that’s insane. And—“
“No. I mean about Gavin. I see the way he looks at you.”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Why? I see the way you look at him too.”
My chest tightens. “How… How do I look at him?”
“Like he’s desirable but off limits. Why? He seems to really like you, and—“
“Complicated,” I grumble, not wanting to get into the whole mess with Vince. It’s too painful to think about him. Saying his name would make things even harder.
“So make it uncomplicated.”
“You can’t just…” I shake my head. Can’t what? Can’t forget your first love? Can’t fall out of love with someone? I know I don’t want to stop loving Vince, that I haven’t yet, but a part of me keeps thinking about all those times I tried to convince Mom to get out there and date after Dad died. Vince and I never talked about our future. We never said I love you or made any promises. He’s moved on. He’s had six months to get over me and find someone new. Well, old. An old friend to start a new relationship with.
Am I more scared of testing the waters with Gavin because I think it will lessen my feelings toward Vince, or am I too scared to see how I really feel about Gavin in that way because of how much I want to hold onto the notion that free will is real and exists?
