Chapter 17 Sky #2
“But”—he shook his head—“they said I was lying. That I was making it up. My whole life, they said I was…” He trailed off, shaking his head again.
“Then they forced me out, told me to leave. They said I had a demon in me.” His gaze dropped to the table, and Patchy scooted around, standing on his hind legs like he was trying to hug Booker.
“But I didn’t. I swear I didn’t do anything. It just happens.”
Carli pulled away from her wife and gripped his knee tightly. “We believe you, Booker. You’re not evil. We know you’re not.”
“You’re one of the good guys,” Cassi added solemnly.
“If you weren’t, I’d know.” She lifted her hands, and symbols flared to life on all of the walls of the shop.
“Before we moved any of our things into this place, we set up all of our protections. It’s warded against true evil, and those who pass our borders with ill intent or malice in their hearts are so uncomfortable here they can barely order and wait on their drink before they double-time it out the door to never come back again. ”
Carli hummed. “Tell him, Sky. Tell him he’s good.”
Startled, I gaped at her and Cassi, who both stared at me expectantly. Booker, on the other hand, looked hopeful. King wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I felt his support bolster me, twining around… “What is that?”
“It’s your magic, Sky,” Carli said, sounding all chirpy like a baby bird first thing in the morning.
“But I’m only supposed to have magic in the Dream-veil. Chance’s gifts are on this plane.”
“But you both have magic, no matter where you are,” Cassi said. “Look inside. Let yourself see it, feel it.”
“You can do it, Sky,” King said softly. “I’ve seen your magic. It’s beautiful.”
“But that’s in the Dream-veil,” I insisted, promising myself to ask him what he meant later, when we were alone.
“But you conjured fire at Beckoning Pond, remember?” he prodded.
“Don’t be scared, Sky,” Cassi added. “Close your eyes and let yourself be who you were created to be.”
I slammed my eyelids shut. I couldn’t say if it was because I believed them or if it was to escape them all staring at me.
Could I feel my magic? Feel if Booker was good?
Was that true? How had I never known that?
Was this one of those lessons that Elyse and Rosie had been planning to teach me?
Or had they been leading me this direction the whole time, but I’d been too thick, too regimented in my thinking to understand?
Taking a shuddering breath, I blew it out slowly, concentrating on dispelling the anxiety running rampant through my mind.
Distantly, I felt King’s arm fall away as I straightened, resting my hands on my thighs, palms up, and focusing on releasing my tension.
With each breath I inhaled, I concentrated on a part of my body, then blew out the tension, relaxing into myself.
Starting at my head, I didn’t stop until I reached the tips of my toes.
Letting everything else fade away, I turned inward, following the silence until I saw a spark inside of me.
It wasn’t really seeing, though, it was feeling, it was… knowing.
As my thoughts flowed through me, the spark became a tiny flame, and it grew as I concentrated on it. Bigger and bigger, filling me up. “Now look at Booker, Sky,” a voice said. It could’ve been Carli or Cassi, or it could’ve come from inside. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.
I opened my eyes to where I knew Booker sat, and he glowed brightly. White beams of light shone out of his body, his very soul, casting glittering sparkles on every place he touched.
It was almost as if…as if he was a beacon in the storm, a guiding light.
How could anyone have cast him out, especially his family?
Why? There was no way he’d ever done anything wrong.
His soul was too pure, too bright, for anyone to feel evil from him.
We’d wanted to help him because he was being targeted by malice, but the wives were right, Booker was one of the good ones. Trustworthy. Faithful. Loyal.
“Anyone who turned from you? They were the problem, Booker. Your soul is beautiful.”
He gasped, and I blinked, my vision returning to normal. His hopefulness was growing. “So is yours, Sky,” he said with a wobble in his voice, showing the fear that still resided there. Fear of disappointment, fear of rejection.
I reached for his hand without hesitation.
I didn’t doubt what he saw or that he could see.
Others may have called him a liar, called him evil, and cast him out.
But not me. Not us. “Thank you.” I sniffed.
“Thank all of you.” I included Cassi and Carli for helping me see.
For giving Booker the gift of knowing that what he saw was okay, normal for him.
Dare I say—after seeing his light—this young man was powerful.
“Time to work,” Cassi whispered, helping Carli out of her chair. Both of them headed toward the counter, the symbols on the walls fading away, as the bell above their door tinkled.
A man in a suit—hair still wet from a shower—strode in, rubbing his hands together. “Give me the good stuff, ladies.”
He gave us that absent good morning of strangers as he passed our table. His back was to us before I remembered Patchy. Turning to make sure he’d vanished back to wherever the heck he went, I found him still in Booker’s arms but white, with a single golden brown patch of fur around his right eye.
“Aw, Patchy,” I cooed like he was a baby.
He gave Booker one last lick to his chin, then wiggled and reappeared in my arms. King, Booker, and I all glanced quickly at the man at the counter to make sure he hadn’t witnessed it, and saw Carli standing at the register, darting glances at us and giggling while she rang the man up. Phew. He hadn’t seen.
Snuggling him close, I kissed the top of his head. “Good boy.”
As the man left, King pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and checked the time. “I think we need help.” His gaze moved to Booker. “It’s time for you to meet my grandmother.”