Haunt My Halls

Chapter Favor for Fate

Favor for Fate

Leona

My heart pounds along with my fist against the heavy oak door and I draw in a ragged breath, wincing at the stitch in my side.

Running is disgusting. I’m not meant to run.

I’m meant to frolic. A huff fills the air between my face and the door, and I scowl.

I should have waited until morning. At that errant thought, there's a swooping sensation in my gut and the knot of anxiety residing in my chest increases tenfold. No—it can’t wait.

Come on, Cian, wake up! I bounce on my aching feet and slam my fist against the door a few more times, relishing the sting.

The icy fingers of my free hand rub over my chest as it dawns on me that I haven’t even considered what this will mean for Cian’s dad.

Poor Tavish. Groaning, I rest my forehead against the cool door, and try to listen for any sounds coming from the other side.

This—ugh! This is why so many witches prefer not to use divination on their own life strings.

I’m oddly adept at scrying for a run-of-the-mill garden witch, but I usually do my best to avoid seeing anything too close to home.

It’s a rabbit hole, isn’t it? Open the door—just a crack—and bam!

Life as you know it is thrown entirely off kilter.

Changing fate isn’t easy. Damn near impossible, really.

And what a fucking insidious torture it is to know something like this.

To feel responsible for something like this!

What if I muck it up? Oh gods, please don’t let me muck it up!

It was an accident… seeing my best friend’s death.

Cian and I got marvelously drunk after his girlfriend broke his heart (a complete ninny, by the way).

At the time we had a brilliant idea. (At the time I was drunk enough to be pickled, and it was a fucking terrible idea).

Note to self—spirits and divination should not be mixed.

Anyway, all he wanted to know was whether or not he’d find someone.

That’s it! For fucks sake, even those mostly bogus kitschy fortune tellers can read tarot well enough to answer something as simple as that.

But of course, it’s never as simple as that, is it?

I feel my eyes sting with fresh tears and gratefully press my face closer to the cool, damp wood of the door.

With my lips flush against the surface I mutter, “Awaken, arise, a visitor awaits.”

The gentle tug of magic helps to ground me and I straighten to take a steadying breath.

I should have won an Emmy for my performance after that vision.

Gods know how it’s haunted me since then.

I see a love that will transcend time. Ha!

All I had really seen was a pool of blood and his cold, dead eyes.

And now this. My jaw clenches with bittersweet disappointment.

All this time—months!—that I’ve been chasing those fate strings for a better glimpse of Cian’s impending demise…

obsessing over what I could possibly do to change it.

A laugh, heavily weighted with rage, bubbles out of my chest and I quickly dash at the tears on my cheeks.

The Fates are bitches and their sense of humor sucks.

Noise from the other side of the door has me quickly hiding my distress behind a shaky smile as I wait to greet my friend.

“If you’re here to steal anything, I’m warning you I’m armed!” Cian’s lilting voice still sounds gravelly with sleep, and my smile becomes genuine as I hear the locks shift and watch as the door swings open. His barely there Irish accent is always noticeable when he’s tired or angry.

Some small fission of tension eases out of me at the sight before me and I laugh, “You’re going to fend off intruders with a… French bread?” I feel my eyebrow quirk as Cian does a double take at the unassuming loaf of bread he’s clutching like a baseball bat.

His bleary green eyes shoot back to me as a slight blush colors his collar and he grumbles, “Give me a break woman, I was dead to the world less than four minutes ago and I… Leona? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Shit! I feel my heart pounding in my ears as the color drains from my face at his unfortunately timed idiom. Get it together, Leona. You’re running out of time! “Nothing, I—err, it’s nothing. I-I have something for you. It’s important.”

Cian’s narrowed eyes roam over my face, clearly not believing that everything is alright.

He clears his throat and opens the door wider, beckoning me into the cozy warmth of his home as he gently says, “Lee, I love gifts as much as anyone… but couldn’t this wait until the morning?

” He glances quickly at the clock over the mantel in his sitting room which reads 3:15 am and amends, “you know, normal human morning with the sun and the birds and—”

“No. I-I’m sorry. It’s not a gift, not really.

It’s… well, erm–it’s a favor. Probably the most important thing I’ll ever ask of you.

” I feel my stomach lurch and twist itself into knots as he closes the door and follows me further into the sitting room.

My insides have to look like a fancy pretzel by this point.

Cian looks at me expectantly and I meet his curious stare, willing him to understand without words.

His eyes widen slightly and he glances down at the bag I use for spell casting that I’m clutching to my stomach with a white-knuckled grip.

He slowly nods his head full of ruffled shaggy blonde hair and takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

I hold his penetrating gaze until tears cloud my vision and I have to blink them away.

I shake my head once. Cian has been my dearest friend since childhood, and he knows that sometimes telling someone the details of their future can risk the outcome.

I can’t chance telling him too much. Not after having to hunt for the better part of a year to find this one path that would allow him to cheat death, sort of.

Plus, it’s not just his life string that would be affected anymore.

The urgency from earlier surges through me like a whole body pulse once again. I sniff back tears and try to swallow around the knot in my throat as I croak out, “I need you to trust me, Cian. P-Please. You can’t ask me too many questions or this won’t work.”

Cian’s eyes get misty as I confirm the suspicions I’m sure have been plaguing him since he registered my mood and laid eyes on my spell bag. He sighs heavily and clenches his jaw as he walks forward and places his hand on my shoulder.

“Lee, you know I trust you.” He holds my gaze with pleading eyes, before his eyebrows draw together in a pained look. “What about my dad?”

My lip trembles as I shake my head again, “He’ll be fine.”

I watch as he steels himself before saying, “Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it.” His voice breaks off at the end and my heart goes along with it. Please let everything be fine!

I pull him in for a quick but fierce hug before drawing away with a watery smile.

This has to be the answer… right? Please—if any gods are listening, please let this be the right choice.

I take in a fortifying breath and reach into my spell bag, taking out an elaborate skeleton key on a plain chain.

My eyes trace over the unique design of crossed skeletal arms locked in an embrace as I hold it out for Cian to take.

“Put this on.”