Chapter 9 #2
“I think we need to go back to baby steps,” I said. “I can’t even feel the rocks, let alone isolate one with my mind.”
“Then try harder.”
I briefly flicked my eyes open, but at the sight of Seer Goddard’s frowning face, I quickly shut them again. I sat there for what felt like forever. Then, suddenly, I felt something smack into my shoulder.
“Ow!” I yelped. The sensation didn’t hurt terribly; it felt like someone had thrown a small rock at me. It had mostly caught me off guard.
“Did you feel that?” Seer Goddard asked.
“Uh, yes.” I rubbed my shoulder where the stone had made contact. “Please don’t throw rocks at me.”
“If you were concentrating, you would have sensed it coming and blocked it.”
“I think I need some more instruction,” I said. “How do you feel rocks?”
“You can feel the water. We both know it amplifies your powers.”
“Yes, but that’s natural,” I said. “Why don’t we start with water since I have a connection to it?”
“A tripod with one leg will not stand,” Seer Goddard insisted. “You need all three elements to work if you’ll be the Triune Queen. We will work on what you’re weakest at—and apparently you are very weak when it comes to rocks.”
“Well, I can sit here and feel nothing forever, or maybe we could try coming at this from a different angle?”
Seer Goddard heaved a huge sigh. “You’ll need to send out feelers from your mind. Like serpents, slithering from you into the earth. Tendrils of magic that work for you, obey you, report back to you. That are truly an extension of you. They are you.”
“Okay.”
“Let them seep into the ground. There is life everywhere. Rocks themselves are not living things, but they are part of a living world. Focus on that.”
I did as he said. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but that wasn’t new—nothing here made sense.
But I had felt those tendrils of magic before, the power that had snaked out of me to heal the earth, protected me from the kraken, amplified in the water.
I focused on the tendrils because I knew what those were.
As I sent out the tendrils, I could feel them sinking into the ground. I could feel the gravelly taste of the earth. I suddenly felt parched, as if my throat was so dry I couldn’t speak. The earth up here was dry, desperately dry.
When I was confident I could gently control several of my tendrils of power, I focused on isolating a midsize stone. I wrapped my magic around it and lifted. It felt heavy—physically heavy, even though I hadn’t moved my body an inch.
When I opened my eyes, I heard Seer Goddard’s throat clear in approval, and I saw the rock floating in midair in front of me.
“I did it!” I shrieked.
I had levitated a rock. Seer Goddard quickly ducked as the rock sailed toward him like a missile. In my excitement, I’d lost control.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“I see we’re making progress,” he said. “Dangerous progress.”
“I’ll work on my control.”
“Obviously.” Seer Goddard paused. “Now do it again, this time trying not to impale me with a sharp instrument.”
I closed my eyes, but I felt antsy. The stones were digging into my butt. The dry dustiness was an annoyance, like cottonmouth. I didn’t feel attached to the rock at all. Instead, I felt tugged in a different direction.
I opened my eyes. “I’m sorry. I think something’s wrong. I can’t get my concentration back.”
“You didn’t try very hard. That was approximately two seconds of effort.”
“Something’s not right, though.”
“You need to learn patience,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes again, but instead of the dry dustiness of the rock, all I could focus on was a lapping sensation, like water.
But this water didn’t feel calming and invigorating like usual, it felt angry, twisting and churning.
My stomach felt like there was a bucket of seawater sloshing inside it. It made me upset and worried.
My body trembled. Goosebumps pricked my skin, just like when I had been standing at the edge, looking out over the sea. I opened my eyes. “I’m sorry, but something isn’t right.”
“Yes. Your attitude,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
“I know we’re focusing on the rocks,” I said, standing, brushing myself off. It felt uncomfortable to disobey Seer Goddard, but I was learning to trust my instincts. “I think something is wrong, and I need to investigate.”
Seer Goddard gave a long pause. Then finally said, “Very well.”
“There’s something not right in the waters. I’ll be back soon, or tomorrow at the latest. Thank you for your help today.”
Then I turned and walked away from the Seer, despite every instinct telling me it was the wrong choice.
I’d been waiting for the Seer to help me, and now that he had offered, I’d cut our first session extremely short.
I couldn’t even follow his basic instruction to sit still and keep my eyes closed.
But deeper inside, something was pulling me, urging me to move. Something wasn’t right on The Isle.
I moved toward the edge of the cliff. This time, I walked straight to where Seer Goddard had been standing before, toe to toe with his perch. He followed me, standing slightly back, watching.
I stood on the cliff, gazing to the right, where the northeasternmost edge of the island curved out of sight.
The ocean spray was the usual angry sort, nothing particularly violent or suspicious.
I looked to the left where the cliffs sloped down, rolling gently from the high altitude of Silas’s lands to the waters.
There I noticed a gathering of people on the shore.
I squinted, and it seemed like there was a small boat washed up on the shore. Tiny figures flitted around it, most of them dressed in black. A group of Rangers, most likely. If I really squinted, I thought I could make out Silas’s figure among them.
I had the passing thought that maybe it wasn’t my connection to the water, but my connection to Silas that had alerted me to the fact something was wrong. Either way, something was wrong.
Seer Goddard gave me a barely perceptible nod when I turned to face him. Something behind his glassy, pale-blue eyes—so pale they were somewhere between the color of air and sea—resembled approval.
I hurried back down the path, stopping by Wisteria Cottage just long enough to slide on a pair of shoes before trekking down to the sandy beach I’d spotted from my high perch.
Sure enough, I knew I was in the right spot when I spotted the swarm of gathered Rangers in the isolated cove, tucked among the hilly cliffsides that edged the island shore.
“What is it?” I asked when I found Silas. “What’s wrong?”
If Silas or Ranger X were surprised to see me, they didn’t show it. Silas merely nodded at the boat washed up on shore. “This turned up… missing its crew.”
I winced. “Is it a human boat?”
“We think so,” Ranger X said. “It’s nothing registered here on the island.”
“How did they get past the wards?” I asked. “I know my wards aren’t stellar yet, but keeping this island hidden from humans is kind of its main job.”
“We don’t know that yet,” X said. “But we don’t think it was by accident.”
“Could it have been”—I paused, glanced at it—“attacked by a kraken?”
“The boat’s much too intact for that. The waters were calm out there today, even beyond our wards. No reason it should have capsized. I know accidents can happen, but this doesn’t feel accidental.”
“Ranger X,” someone called. “You’re going to want to look at this.”
I trailed behind X and Silas as another Ranger led them to the front of the boat. On the bow, scratched into the wood, was a rough-hewn symbol. I didn’t recognize it, but apparently the others did.
“What is it?” I asked, squinting to examine the marking. “Does it mean something?”
“It’s the Triskelion Sigil,” Silas said softly.
I raised an eyebrow. “I take it that’s not a good sigil?”
I didn’t know anything about sigils. I wasn’t even sure what the word meant. I’d maybe heard it once before, but that was the extent of my knowledge.
“The Harbinger of the Underworld uses something like this,” Silas said quietly. “If that’s what it’s for, then no, it’s not great.”
“Harbinger.” I parroted another word I’d heard before, but never actually understood.
“The forerunner,” Silas said. “Usually in warning.”
“It’s not a good thing,” Ranger X said. “It’s usually pretty bad news.”
“The good news is that’s not surprising,” I said. “We’ve already seen a crimson lycanthrope, a kraken, and now a capsized boat. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out something nefarious is at play.”
Ranger X gave a short laugh. “Well, I suppose that’s true. Not a bad attitude, if you ask me. Better to be realistic.”
“Where did the fishermen go?” I asked, guilt gnawing at my stomach.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe my presence here had something to do with all this death and destruction—the curse, the lycanthrope, the Furies, the kraken, and now the missing fishermen.
Even if it wasn’t directly my fault, I felt like if I had mastered my powers sooner, maybe I could have prevented some of this disaster.
“We don’t know,” X said. “No bodies have been recovered.”
“Could that be a good thing?” I asked. “Maybe they’re alive?”
“Maybe,” Ranger X agreed, but his tone told me he didn’t believe that at all. “We’ll find them if they’re out there.”
“The kraken, the lycanthrope, the fishermen…” I said slowly. “Do you think all these incidents are related to the harbinger?”
“I think that’s very likely,” X said. “Quite probable, in fact.”
I stood there for a moment longer, welcoming Silas’s touch as he sidled close to me, curling against me like he could sense I needed a boost of strength. He threw an arm around my shoulder, let me lean against him as we watched the Rangers work.
After some time, Silas murmured, “We should think about taking off. There’s nothing left for us to do here.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I suppose you’re right.”