Chapter Fourteen
~
Selene reached inside his vest slowly, as though tryin’ to come to a decision. He withdrew a fold of leather bindin’ sheets of parchment, and held it out. I sensed discomfort in the man’s bearin’. His knuckles wrenched white on what had to be a small book, which wasn’t much broader than his hand.
“What’s that?”
“The primer every wizard starts out with.” Selene gave it a subtle shake. “Take it.”
Touchin’ the bindin’, a shock numbed my wrist, which continued up my arm, and down my spine, the jolt I told myself I might as well get used to. With shakin’ fingers I drew back the cover to the first page and read the title. Nature’s Runes, An Earthly Testament.
“As I said, it’s only the starting point. The alphabet of the wizard’s tool box, so to speak.”
“Makes little sense,” I mumbled as I scanned the first lines adjacent to a simplistic, stick-like drawin’.
“When it does—”
“What?”
“Never mind. I have something else we must do.” He turned and peered left and right.
“Whatcha lookin’ for?” I asked.
“There,” he said pointin’ fifteen feet up the ravine. He strode quickly along the creek bed as though someone anxiously waited for him to deliver somethin’. “Don’t disturb the water.” He stood over a quiet pool dammed by gravel built up against the flow of water. He squatted and pointed to a boulder across from him. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“What—”
“Be patient,” he said without a bit of that particular emotion in his voice. “It’ll be clear in a moment.”
I sat on the rounded rock and studied the wizard. Selene shuffled his body a tetch, as though gettin’ comfortable, closed his eyes, and flexed the finger which donned that overly large ring.
“Concentrate on the surface of the water,” he whispered.
I maybe rolled my eyes. Ogres have their strange ways. Have nothin’ on wizards. The tightenin’ muscles in my back stole my haughty attitude. The tic intensified from my neck to my arse, and my vision blurred. I tried to swallow but couldn’t.
“I think I’m gonna black—”
“Shh,” Selene hissed. “Focus. On the water.”
The moments passed. My discomfort worsened.
“Focus,” Selene snapped.
I forced a slow, deep breath, and directed my stare across the twenty-inch basin of water. A wisp, like fog, crossed the surface. I shivered, as day turned to night, and silence fell about us. The rustle of the creek stilled, as did the forest. For a moment I may have blacked out, but should I have my senses about me if I did? I was someplace else, no longer sittin’, but standin’, waitin’, waitin’ for what, I didn’t have a clue.
The sound of a door openin’, dull light cascadin’ upon me, made me jerk. A fear worse than anythin’ I’d ever felt in my life gripped my lungs. I clenched in preparation to escape, but somethin’, maybe my fear, kept me frozen in place.
“Wha—”
“Remain silent,” Selene whispered.
Eyes adjustin’, I realized I stood next to the wizard in a near-blackened room larger than Morgan’s cabin, but there was nothin’ rustic about the place. It could have been a picture from one of the texts Mama used to teach out of. Three, rich-leather chairs set arranged around us. Against the walls, shelves floor-to-ceilin’ filled with books.
A man rushed toward us from a sunlit hallway, silhouetted in the light. Though his features were invisible, his attire was clear enough. Gentry, polished boots, creased suit and vest, a gold chain indicated a hidden pocket watch, billowin’ red ascot at his throat. He drew the door nearly closed dashin’ us back in darkness. “Selene?”
“Yes.”
“Not a good time.”
“Visitors?”
“None other than Ollimon.”
Did Selene swear under his breath?
“I’ll be quick,” Selene said. “I need your help.”
“Everyone knows that,” the man hissed. “You never—”
“It isn’t one, but two,” Selene said.
The stranger remained quiet.
“One is an innocent, nearly a child. Knows nothing of our kind.”
“I suppose you believe he deserves a chance?”
“Brother—”
“Your good deeds will kill you,” the man said.
“What good is the power if we can’t do good by—”
“Not the same, old arguments. Not now.”
“You must help me find one of us willing to take on the lad,” Selene said in a rush.
“Don’t even think—”
Selene sighed. “I know.”
The man studied me now, and the muscles in my back tightened more.
“What’s your name, boy?”
Boy. I swallowed quickly. “Paul.”
“From a Christian family, eh?”
“We read a bit of the Gospel before Sunday dinner, sir.”
The man smiled. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen, sir.”
“He’s a polite young man,” Selene said. “Curious. Seems brighter than the average.”
My cheeks warmed.
The man turned his attention back to Selene. “You know the outlook—”
“Isn’t good,” Selene finished for him.
“Truthfully, worse than that. Be prepared. What of the other?”
Selene didn’t answer for a long moment. “Problematic,” he finally said.
“A scoundrel, eh?”
“No. An ogre.”
“What!”
“Aye.”
“Tis a first.”
“Aye.”
“I must go, brother. Have you come across Blake?”
Selene chuckled. “Didn’t keep his plans secret, did he?”
“You know our kind can’t keep a secret.”
“Aye. He and his two shadows have voiced their threats already.”
“You’ll never learn.” The man turned.
I found myself squattin’ once again next to the creek. I let out a screech and fell backward off my rock, feet flyin’ into the air. Before the stars cleared from the bang at the back of my head, I heard Selene’s laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, lad. I guess I could have warned you.”
Selene leaned over me, his face grim, no sign of the earlier humor. He held out his hand. I took it, the touch snappin’ with that energy-thin’, before the man heaved me skyward.
“That was unsettlin’,” I said, as Selene brushed leaves off my back.
“I suspect.”
“I can’t wait to tell my sisters—”
“You cannot talk to gentiles,” Selene barked, “about our ways. Never! Hear me?”
Gentiles? “Uh, yes, sir. Gentiles?”
“Pick up your primer,” Selene said pointin’ at it on the ground.
When I stood up, Selene pulled me with him, his arm around my shoulder, for Morgan’s cabin. We walked like that a few steps before the man let me go. What was the embrace about? No one had ever held me like that, that I could remember. I tried to recall the man’s words, somethin’ about bein’ much worse than not good.
So, maybe, I only have three and a half days. Odd, that didn’t frighten me more. Nothin’ like that moment in the dark, when I realized my soul was somewhere else, hundreds of miles away.
Spooky. Make a great, fire-side ghost story.
~
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