Chapter 4 #3
“It’s taking her magic in a very inefficient way,” Jamillah concluded with a frown.
“She’ll slip into inter. Neither dead nor alive, and she’ll remain in that state until the magic has been completely siphoned from her.
Then she’ll die. If the curse is lifted even in that state…
she should fully recover.” Jamillah’s voice didn’t hold the same confidence in the latter information. “Inter is considered a magic death.”
“Which will trigger a visit from the shadow gods, who’ll collect whatever magic is left,” Darren provided, his tone somber and seemingly sharing my disdain for the dumb-ass technicality.
There was hope. She wasn’t dead and hadn’t slipped into inter.
Darren’s confidence seemed to come from experience.
People spoke of the shadow gods like they were the boogeyman, slipping in and out without notice, but they weren’t.
There were claims that people had seen their faces, dealt with them, even yelled at them.
They were the final step of death for those with magic.
Collecting our soul and magic, in a glimpse.
“Shadow gods,” I whispered, adding them to the equation. “The person who did this to her will have her magic,” I added.
“Most of her magic. Once she slips into inter, the shadow gods will collect her and remove her magic and leave her as she was.” Jamillah sighed into her frown of disappointment.
“Why would they take her away?” I asked.
“Because you all—”
Layla cleared her throat in warning. Jamillah worked hard at not completing the eye roll of annoyance.
“We…”
Nah, girl, no one believes that.
“…are taken away when our life is collected. Most people don’t realize the person is gone because they are left unaware.”
“They take away the memory?” I directed my question to the young woman who possessed knowledge beyond her years and a willingness to share. Something her partners seemed reluctant to do. Layla’s lips had pursed into a tight line. She appeared ready to leave me to handle the situation alone.
“Left unaware. I believe their magic stops time to allow them to take the body,” Jamillah said. Again, it lacked some conviction. It could be an erasure of memory for all I knew. Neither situation was optimal.
“It typically doesn’t happen that way. You die and they come to collect. This time, her magic being taken will trigger her death. Once in inter, she’s considered dead. And she’ll be taken. I’m sorry.”
“She’ll die and the person responsible will get away with it.” I sighed with defeat.
And given the opportunity to go after their rightful target. Me.
I pushed that thought aside. Saving Amelia was my top priority.
The Heartsoil charm gave me forty-eight hours—give or take.
Even if she slipped into inter, I had some time until all the magic was completely removed and she died.
Really dead. Not this fucking technicality death that only happens to people with magic.
Refocusing, I took stock of the situation. The biggest obstacle was the shadow gods who’d consider her technically dead and take her soul and the rest of her magic. I couldn’t do anything once that was done.
“She’s not really dead. If they come, I won’t let them take her.”
The quiet look of pitying concern I earned from Layla made me painfully aware of how petulant and delusional I probably sounded. I started pacing.
“I have to keep the shadow gods from her,” I announced.
Vina had done it. I nearly blurted out the information but a glance at Layla made me swallow the words. They might know of Vina’s antics, but they didn’t know that the woman lying unconscious with her life and magic being slowly siphoned by a curse was Vina’s daughter.
Rushing to find Amelia’s purse where William had returned her phone, I then keyed in the password and searched through her contacts. I hauled out of the bedroom, aptly aware of how odd I must’ve looked frenetically scrolling.
As I suspected, Vina’s name wasn’t listed. But not finding her when I searched “mom” was unexpected. None of the messages seemed like a conversation between a mother and daughter.
Inhaling a deep breath, which I hoped would remove the panicked urgency from my voice, I used Amelia’s phone to call her father. Maybe he’d have a way to contact Vina. His voice was full of embarrassment admitting he didn’t have a way to get in contact with her.
“What’s wrong, Kara?” his soft, endearing voice asked. It was heartbreaking to have to lie to him. Other than finding Vina, there wasn’t anything he could do. He was human, not a drop of magical blood in him. It was blatantly obvious whenever I neared him.
“She misses her mother’s visits. It’s weighing on her a lot lately.” That wasn’t a lie. “I hoped I could convince her to visit Amelia. A few minutes would do—anything would do.”
“Their meetings went from every other month, to quarterly, and last year, Amelia only saw her once,” Walden acknowledged.
I debated whether to tell him that once Amelia had reluctantly confided that most of her visits with her mother consisted of an interrogation about me.
The visits began to dwindle when Vina realized Amelia wouldn’t disclose anything about me.
I held strong to my initial plan to give myself twenty-four hours to get a handle on things before I’d worry him with a situation he couldn’t fix.
“Let me speak with her,” he requested.
“She’s sleeping. That’s why I called now.” The lie tasted rancid. I suspected he needed to hear her voice to determine her true state. I stopped myself before promising to have her call. “I’ll let you go. If you find a way to contact Vina, please let me know, okay?”
I tried not to give in to hopelessness. It was hard when my best lead was a dead end. Straightening to keep my body from caving in to the sadness, I assessed my options.
Reentering the bedroom, the scroll of tasks required raced through my mind: Find the evoker of the curse or a way to break it. Prevent Amelia from slipping into inter. Ward off the shadow gods. Easy peasy.
“I just need some time.” My voice broke.
“If she dies, it’s my fault.” Plopping down on the edge of the bed, I blinked away tears.
If things had happened as the curser intended, it would have been Amelia trying to figure out a way to save me.
At least she may have had the ability to enlist her mother’s help again.
Desperation had me returning to Amelia’s phone, desperately scrolling through her social media and pictures for any clue as to how to find her mother.
I needed to get the word out. Should I make a cryptic post, hoping she’d see it?
It was doubtful that Vina was on social media.
Angry tears ran down my cheeks. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been ruminating until I looked up to see the trio reentering the room with pensive expressions.
Jamillah quickly made her way across to me.
Kneeling, she covered my hands with hers. “She’s the only one you have, isn’t she?”
Was it that evident? After my parents’ death, I’d lived with Amelia and her father.
My father was an only child, and my mother had a sister who lived in Lisbon.
They weren’t close, but after the accident and out of sibling obligation, she agreed to move back to the States to care for me.
Two months being my guardian, it became apparent, despite her attempts to mask it, that she was just as miserable as I was being under her care.
She was kind and thoughtful, but her heart and life were in Lisbon.
Walden noticed it as well. After years of being neighbors, their house had become my second home.
Initially reluctant, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing for my aunt to concede when Walden suggested I live with them and she return to Lisbon.
Later, I found out she’d sent him money for the extra expenses he incurred with me living in the house.
At eighteen, I was given the trust and life insurance, and Waldon gave me the money she’d sent.
My aunt had cared for me in a detached manner, which I suspected was similar to Vina.
A disconnected love. Was that even a thing?
I believed that if I needed my aunt to care for me, she would.
I believed that if I could get in contact with Vina, she’d risk it all to help her daughter.
I needed that to be true because locating Vina had made its way to the top of the list as the best option to help Amelia.
“We’re like sisters. I’ll do whatever it takes to save her. I just need more time.”
“Time,” Jamillah said with a peculiar veneration.
She glanced back at Layla, whose lips had downturned to a rigid frown.
Darren’s concerned eyes stayed on Jamillah.
Her touch was gentle, like she was clinging to her earlier sentiments about sensing me.
It piqued curiosity and the desire to learn more about these witches.
“Why does it feel like we should have found you?” she whispered. Her curiosity and disappointment were an anchor on the question. Dismay made her scowl. Slowly exhaling a breath, she shook her head, like it would remove the doubt.
“If her magic is taken, maybe they won’t come. They only take those with magic.” I was grasping at anything while hopelessness whittled into all my plans.
“It’s not just the magic. It’s the connection magic has to the source of life,” she reminded me. “They will take her because she’d be considered dead.” Jamillah’s gaze darted back at the others. After a meaningful but silent exchange between the three, Layla nodded at her.
“We will help you with the shadow gods, but you must promise that once we leave, this visit with us will be forgotten. This help did not come from us.”
I nodded, taking note of the precise wording of her request. She bowed her head for a moment, eyes closed. Magic twined around me from the spell she was casting.