Chapter Eleven
O ther than the sound of our footsteps on the forest floor, the walk has been silent.
We’ve traveled about five miles toward our destination, and Ori has been scouting ahead from above. He said he didn’t see any big creatures moving about, but he can’t exactly feel for its magick either. Nothing feels amiss with my trisense so far, but we won’t know for sure until we are much closer.
I’m not sure if that is what has me so uneasy, or if it’s the fact that neither of us has mentioned the fact that we aren’t alone.
Blake hasn’t said a word, but I know he can see it. The creature hasn’t actually touched me yet, but I can absolutely feel it. I have been trying to ignore it the whole walk, hoping it will find something more interesting, but it is starting to drive me nuts.
I stop quickly and turn around to face him, before asking him in a whisper, “When were you going to tell me about the hitchhiker?”
He looks slightly confused, but then his lips tip up in a soft smile as he catches up to what I’m talking about. “Sorry. I didn’t know if you realized it was there, and it seemed pretty content to just go along for the ride. Honestly, it snuck into my pack yesterday and traveled almost a hundred miles on my motorcycle with me. I keep trying to set it free but, well…” he chuckles softly and I can’t stop the smile that crosses my face at the sound. “It just won’t leave me alone. I guess it likes you too?”
“It’s strange that a dragonfly would be so determined to join a couple of weird magickals trudging toward danger,” I respond as we begin to walk side-by-side. “It’s also strange that I can feel its essence. I have never noticed any other animals or insects with essence, but I guess I have been out-of-touch with my magick for quite a bit, so maybe I’m not remembering correctly.”
He glances at me for a quick moment, but the movement is so subtle and fast that I’m not able to read anything in his expression. “It isn’t common to feel their essence, no. But that’s something I can help you figure out when we’re done here... If you want my help, that is.”
Nodding to him, I let the thoughts of strange dragonflies fall from my mind.
Instead, I think about the last time I was in this area of the forest. Wishing I had been enough to defeat the Creatori for good. I failed my mother that day, and she lost her life for her efforts.
I will not fail again. This monster will not take another magickal life from this world. It will not steal someone else’s mother away from them.
I won’t let it.
I am not as nervous as I had thought I would be when we began this journey. Honestly, I’m just ready to be done with this hovering notion that the monster will awake at any moment, spitting in the face of my mother’s sacrifice. I’m sick of waiting, and I feel more energized than I have in a long time. Partly in thanks to the return of my magick.
“Did it feel strange to live these last few years without your magick?” Blake asks, breaking into my thoughts almost as if he can hear them. I’m not bothered by his intrusion though, and welcome the conversation. Perhaps it will help this last leg of traveling pass by more quickly.
“At first, it was–well, it was incredibly awful. Not so much the loss of my abilities, as the loss of my familiar bond.” I glance towards the sky. I’m not able to see Ori, but I can feel him near. In three years, nothing has felt quite so comforting. “I was already so deeply grieving for my mother, and then I was grieving for the loss of that connection that had become a part of me only a short time after. It did take a while for me to get in the groove of how to complete more mundane tasks that I would have just used my abilities on before.”
“That makes sense.” He says, but quickly adds, “I truly am sorry for trudging up such painful parts of your past.”
“Thank you,” I reply softly.
Taking a deep breath, I notice the change instantly. I stop abruptly and so does Blake. He must also notice the sudden quiet that has filled the forest around us. I look at him but don’t speak my question, hoping that he can read it in my body language. He points to the middle of his forehead, right where his third eye is, and points outward ahead of us. I nod. Now would be the best time to fully reach around with my trisense and get a lay of things.
I crouch down and sink my fingers into the ground, taking slow, deep breaths in and out. Since I am out of touch with my magick, this process takes a little longer than it should. But, since I’m the one familiar with the area and magicks used for the containment, it makes more sense that I feel everything out, rather than Blake. I close my eyes, and on my next deep exhale I push my magick out in tiny tendrils in the direction we are heading. The tendrils aren’t visible to others, but I can see their light yellow glow and feel the area with each one clearly, as if they were my own fingers and not just a magickal sensing.
My trisense magnifies the essence of any living magickal entity in the area, as well as spell signatures. Since I only have to sense in one direction, there are only nine tendrils, but if I’m sensing in multiple directions, I can send out over twenty at a time. With only nine to focus my energy on, I should be able to quickly pick up on the traces left behind by the containment spell.
However, as I reach the edge of the area close to our destination, I feel only a void. The Creatori is no longer contained. However, It doesn’t even feel as though there are any magickal particles left behind by the containment spell at all.
I pull my tendrils back into myself and remove my grip from the Earth before I stand. This whole situation just keeps getting weirder and weirder. My brows furrow as I turn to face Blake.
“We need to get there quickly. I don’t feel anything… like at all .“ I tell him as I pull my sword from its sheath at my back. Blake must have pulled his dual blades while I was sensing. It’s nice to know he has my back through this.
We are less than a mile from the location where the Creatori has been kept these last three years, so I take off at a quick and steady pace, keeping my footsteps light, and trusting Blake to follow closely. I send a thought to Ori, telling him to stay back while we check things out. I feel his cautious thought as a response, urging me to be careful.
When we reach a fifty-yard radius of the location, I slow my pace and lower my body. Looking around I notice that everything in the area still looks as dead and burnt as it did that day. Nothing has even attempted to grow back in this place. There are no birds around here, and no insects either. It’s as if this entire area has a deterrent surrounding it. How had I never noticed that on the few occasions I came out to check? Surely I would have noticed that was strange?
This can’t be a good sign.
“Did it look like this when you left it?” Blake asks in a hushed tone while looking around us and taking in the strangeness of our surroundings as much as I am.
“No.” I reply. “There was a mirror spell put in place, meant to make it look the same as the surrounding area. It was a band-aid, meant to protect this area until regrowth took over after the fire damage. But this.” I say, gesturing all around and toward the ground. “It’s almost as if everything just… rotted instantly.”
Blake nods his head. His lips pull back in a snarl when he answers. “Well, the Creatori is definitely awake then.” He gestures around us. “The evidence of its monstrous espresso shot makes that pretty obvious. We need to continue ahead and check everything, but be cautious. It’s a starving master predator and we look like a feast.”
“Alright,” I say as I nod in response.
I push forward, still at a slower pace in order to keep my steps as quiet as possible, but it doesn’t take long before we reach a divot in the Earth with an enormous rock to the back of it. The rock is covered in score marks from claws, but I’m relieved to see that the area isn’t covered in blood like it was the last time. My mother wasn’t the only magickal attacked, or lost, that day.
There is nothing here though. Nothing at all to indicate that this divot was a containment nest for our world’s most dangerous creature. No spell traces. No magickal fragments. I can’t even find any prints.
Wait a second.
Why aren’t there any prints?
“You’re completely sure this is the spot, right?” Blake asks almost immediately when we reach the edge of the divot. “Forsythia, this creature is capable of a lot of things, but there are always tracks. Here, there is just… nothing.”
Placing my blade back in its sheath since there appears to be no immediate danger, I gesture around me. My mouth is hanging open as I intend to respond with an extra dose of snark, when my eyes catch on something reflecting the light inside the divot, and it immediately grabs my attention. We don’t have time to argue. We need to hunt this thing down, and that looks like as good of a clue as any.
The urge to snap at Blake passes and I hop down into the divot to pick up what turns out to be a very well-polished rock. It’s about the size of my thumb and pitch black. When I flip it over, I notice there is an etched symbol on it. I am not sure what it means though, so I begrudgingly pass it up to Blake’s eager outstretched hand.
I watch him studying the rock for a minute before I ask, “Do you know what that is?”
He looks at me sharply, then slides the rock into his pocket. “Yes.” He bends down to squint at the divot that housed his target only days ago, almost as if he can’t see me at all.
Rude much?
He doesn’t say anything, seeming lost in his own thoughts, and makes no offer to help me back up. It’s not that deep and I had no issue getting in here, so I should be able to manage getting out on my own as well. I will just let him work through his thoughts, while I get back up to more comfortable ground.
I plant my right foot beside him and hop upwards. I believe my intent was to just pull my other foot up and be standing at the top. I definitely miscalculated something though because instead of coming all the way up, my left foot falls back down into the pit. Only... it lands a little further back this time, effectively making me do the splits.
In case you didn’t know, the splits are not something on my enormous list of amazing talents.
Stop laughing. It’s not funny.
“Ack!” I screech, as I try to get either my left foot up or my right foot down, but I seem to be completely stuck somehow and neither foot wants to budge. I teeter for only a second before strong hands grasp my shoulders to pull me forward, as a puff of air pushes my ass up and out of the embarrassing predicament.
“Thanks” I say once I’m standing on solid ground beside Blake again.
Why do I have to be so fucking awkward?
And why am I a little sad it was his magick on my ass and not his hands?
Shaking off the little bit of lust and lots of dirt from my hands, I realize that I obviously should have known that jumping down into a hole would be easier than trying to jump out of it. My brain doesn’t seem to be functioning at 100% though since about one-third of my blood keeps pulsing in my panties.
Blame the hottie beside me.
Speaking of which, Blake almost immediately goes back to his thoughts. Drifting off somewhere I can’t see. That’s ok. I intend to give him a few minutes to think through this scenario. Maybe he will come up with some answers or ideas I hadn’t considered.
Too bad my curiosity wins out after only a few seconds. Hey, I never said I’m a patient person…
“So... care to share your thoughts? or at least what that rock thing was?”
He straightens back up and sighs, but he doesn’t look at me when he answers this time. “It appears that your feathered buddy has a solid theory. Someone is helping this monster. I’m not sure why, but the lack of prints and this,” he pats his pocket where he stored the rock, “proves it. This isn’t just a rock. It’s a rune stone.”
I nod, but I am not completely understanding the significance of the rock. “So, I have heard of runes before. Our ancestors used them as a means to anchor spells, but isn’t that a strenuous process? Why would someone take that kind of time with a rock? It isn’t really used or taught anymore either. And what is the significance of a rune etched into a shiny rock and not something that would be a bit more useful?”
He shakes his head but takes pity on me and explains. “First, it’s a gemstone, not just a rock. Gemstones are able to easily channel magickal intent and anchor spells if you match the right types together. For example, a labradorite could be easily used to enhance or anchor a spell with air elemental bases, because of its magickal affiliation with the air itself. Some magickal factions still use gemstones just as frequently as witches use herbs and plants. Second, runes are still taught to those who are interested. We all just got lazy with our magick. There are quite a few magickals that still use runes regularly.”
I snort at that last statement. “Yeah, only old people still use runes.”
However, instead of chuckling with me, Blake shifts his feet uncomfortably at my outburst.
Ah, so that’s why he was so defensive about runes. “Then again, I don’t know many–er... uhmm, I guess any –magickals these days, so you are probably right.“ I don’t mind being an ass, when that’s my intention, but he seems like a really knowledgeable magickal, so I certainly don’t want to offend him and his techniques. “So,” I continue on before I put my foot in my mouth again, “what type of magickals use rune stones and what does that one allow the wielder to do?”
Blake sighs and seems to debate for a moment about what to say. “I know that your familiar said you are part witch and elf, but what about your father’s lineage? Before I give you any more information, it’s important that I know where your loyalties lie.”
My body goes stiff and my mood automatically plummets at the mention of my paternal genetics.
Loyalties? What the fuck does that mean?
My father has no sway over anything in my life, so this guy needs to just fucking drop it already.
I glare at him and respond in the calmest way I can. “Listen, I know we are in this whole brand new friendship thing here, so I won’t hold that question against you.” I take a breath before I continue on. “Let’s just get this out now. I don’t know anything about my father. He wasn’t around, he broke my mother’s heart and left before even seeing me for the first time. I don’t know what or who he was, or is, or whatever… and I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It just pisses me off. Just assume all of my loyalties stem from my witch upbringing.”
His expression is stern, but he nods and says, “Fine. Point made. I’m sure you will just love this bit of information then. Demons are the ones who use a lot of rune stones in their spells. So it would appear that they are the ones working with, or for, the Creatori somehow.”
My stomach feels like he dropped a lead weight into it.
He said a lot of words, but only one echoes in my head.
Demons.
Why the fuck did it have to be demons ?