Chapter Nine
At ten o’clock, we arrived at a squat, rundown building wedged between a closed bakery and a boarded-up apothecary. A neon sign read sylvia’s curiosities and antiquities. At least it would have if most of the letters hadn’t burned out in the last word, leaving only quit.
Jace looked disturbed.
Owen and I hadn’t spoken since the awkwardness in his office, and he had barely looked at me during the car ride. I kept kicking myself for making things weird between us.
“Well, the overhead costs must be low,” Jace mused as we stepped out of the car.
The entire street had a forgotten, tired feeling with overfull trash cans lining nearby alleyways and broken bulbs in most of the lampposts.
A lone raven hopped along the ground, its black plumage shifting with light and shadow.
I watched it for a moment then focused on avoiding puddles on my way to the shop’s entrance.
I had only been here a few times, and returning today reminded me why I hadn’t visited more often.
A bell jingled when I pushed the door open, and the overwhelming odour of moth balls, cigarette smoke, and stale booze hit me like a hammer. Owen bumped into me and Jace into him as we crowded the doorway, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the gloom.
The entire shop was cluttered, overflowing with dusty tomes, trinkets, and relics of forgotten lives. Shelves buckled under brass candlesticks, stained lace, and slowly ticking clocks. I shuddered at the cracked porcelain doll staring at me with one glass eye.
Sylvia bustled toward us, the floorboards creaking. Her skirt swished about her legs while silk scarves in riotous shades of red adorned her upper half. She stopped before us, puffing strands of hair off her face.
“Kira? What are you doing here, child? Have you forgiven Todd?”
I almost turned to leave, but the thought of Charles kept my feet planted and I swallowed my anger.
Gritting my teeth, I forced a smile. “Nice to see you, too, Sylvia, and no, that will never happen. I’m here on a different matter.”
“Oh well, one must be forgiving in these situations. We all make mistakes, after all. I’m sure you two will work it out.”
I dropped my smile and glared daggers instead. Syliva turned on her customer service voice, opening her arms and pasting a smile on her face.
“Welcome, my dears! I wasn’t sure I’d have many customers on this rainy morning.”
“Only this morning?” Jace muttered under his breath. We stepped farther into the shop.
“What are you looking for? Can I interest you in a violin?” She gestured to the one beside her, which was missing strings and sitting in a velvet-lined casket of a case. “No? Perhaps a palm or tea leaves reading?”
“We’re here to ask you some questions about the Tree of Life,” I said.
“Oh?”
“This is Owen and Jace. I’ve been helping Owen’s grandfather, Dr. Charles Thornton, pack up his house. Perhaps you know Charles? I saw you at his wife Marion’s celebration of life.”
“Yes, I know Charles, and I knew Marion as well. We were colleagues at the university for decades. Is he here with you?” She peered around us.
“Umm…no. Charles isn’t here.” Pain lanced through me. Wherever Charles was, I prayed he wasn’t suffering.
I quickly relayed the events of the past evening. How I had touched the stone and a portal had opened and showed me a vision. How Charles had disappeared and a creature had attacked us. It sounded even wilder when said aloud.
“A stone, you say?” Sylvia’s eyes narrowed, though she seemed unsurprised. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that we finally had a lead or worried that, of all people, it might be Sylvia who could help. “And it was you, child, who touched the stone? Any new marks on your skin?”
“There’s a small bruise on my chest, but that’s from when Owen knocked me over.”
“Let me see,” she said, reaching for my shirt. From the corner of my eye, I caught Owen stepping toward me.
“It’s okay,” I said, and he stopped, but I was touched by his concern.
I removed my jacket and sweater and pulled the neckline of my T-shirt down to show the bruise. Goosebumps covered me, and I was especially aware of exposing the swell of my breast to Owen. The bruise was a little darker than it had been this morning.
Owen drew a sharp breath. “Kira, if that’s from me, I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I assured him.
“Owen didn’t cause this,” Sylvia said with certainty.
“What does it mean?” I asked as I adjusted my shirt. My cheeks felt warm.
“It means, child, that you are a Veil Walker and that your latent Druid powers have been awakened.”
“What?”
“I’ve always sensed something about you. From the moment Todd introduced you to me. There hasn’t been a Druid who could veil-walk in thousands of years.” As she bustled to the back of her shop, she called over her shoulder, “Follow me!”
Owen, Jace, and I exchanged looks. Jace rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, guys. This is getting weird.”
“Weirder than Kira opening a portal in my grandfather’s living room?” Owen asked, staring at Sylvia’s retreating form. “Seems like she might have the information we need.”
“And I want to know more about this bruise,” I added.
“Okay, but if there’s a cauldron in the back bubbling with potions, I’m out,” Jace said.
We walked cautiously to the back of the shop, and a curtain of beads clacked together as we passed into a circular room with a domed ceiling.
This was an area of the shop I had never entered.
A weathered round table stood in the centre while bookshelves with ancient tomes and more trinkets lined the walls.
“That’s it! I’m out!” Jace said, and I turned to see a mini cauldron on a shelf beside him. It must have been electric because it glowed red and a bit of mist drifted over its edge. Jace pointed frantically at it and the door while making faces at me. I stifled a giggle.
“I don’t see any potions,” I whispered back, “so I think we’re okay.”
Sylvia pulled a large book down from a high shelf and set it on the table close to her.
It was one of the most exquisite manuscripts I had ever seen.
The green cover was worn and cracked, but the intricate golden artwork still shone through.
Extending along the front and reaching across the back was an illustration of a yew tree, its branches reaching for the sky while its roots dug into the earth.
She laid a protective hand on its cover.
“This book contains a history of the Druids and has been passed down through my family for generations. Thousands of years ago, Druids with extraordinary powers were able to speak with the trees, who would grant them access to the Root Path. They used it to travel the world.”
“Root Path?” I asked. “I thought I was a Veil Walker.”
“The Root Path is related to the Veil, although they differ slightly. People pass through the Veil when they die. The Root Path is a step removed. It allows travel between places, but one does not need to be dead to access it.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Jace said with a roll of his eyes.
“My ancestors were Druids, as am I,” Sylvia continued, “although I don’t have any power. The trees that allowed passage were called Crann Bethadh, or the Trees of Life. Only the oldest trees gained this distinction.”
She ran her fingers over the tree on the front cover. “You see these roots? They dig into the earth, our Earth, and they represent the Root Path. And these branches? They reach for other realms within our universe. A Veil Walker could access not only the Root Path, but other realms as well.”
“Other realms?” Jace asked.
“Yes, but no Druid was able to do so. Save one. Thousands of years ago, a gateway to the Fire Realm was opened, but three Druids were able to seal it before a demon fully entered our world.”
I realized with growing apprehension that she was describing the vision I had seen when I opened the portal.
“The stone that Kira touched is not just any stone,” Sylvia continued.
“It is a piece of the seal that was used to hold back the fire demon, Craos. The seal was shattered into three pieces before the Druids could complete the sealing ceremony, and the pieces were lost to time. Each stone reflects the Druid who helped to create it, and each was scattered by a different elemental force. Marion and Charles must have found the one called the Rootstone buried in the earth. In 1963, they excavated an area around the Fortingall Yew in Scotland, the oldest Tree of Life in the world.”
“That’s the same year my grandparents met and were married—1963,” Owen confirmed.
Sylvia flipped a few more pages. “I believe when you touched the stone, Kira, your powerful Druid powers took over but the connection took you by surprise because you’re untrained.
You connected instantly to Craos’s realm, and the power was too much.
If Owen hadn’t interrupted you and knocked the stone from your hand, you might have burned out. ”
I looked at Owen. “See? Not your fault at all. Sounds like you saved my life. Thank you. Again.” I reached out to touch his arm in gratitude, but a brusque nod was his only response. I pulled back immediately.
“Craos spoke to me.” I swallowed hard. “He said he had been waiting for me.”
Sylvia pursed her lips. “Craos will try to enter Earth fully now that the first stone has been awakened. He’s been trapped between worlds for eons, unable to enter our world yet also unable to fully return to his own.
I believe he’s holding Charles hostage. He’s seen your power now, Kira.
He’ll want you to help him enter Earth. Completely this time. ”
“Is Charles okay?”
“No way to know.”
My stomach turned at the danger Charles must be facing. If he was still alive. I shoved that thought to the side. Negativity wouldn’t help.
“Four men who didn’t look human attacked us and then disappeared. Who were they?” Owen asked. “Then there was the creature that attacked us after the portal opened. It was different from the men in the park.”
Sylvia pursed her lips for a moment. “Servants of Craos, I would think. They’ll be hunting you now, child.
Trying to use your power. The creatures are wraiths called Shadowbane, and they can slip between realms. They are bound to Craos, neither fully alive nor dead, and can possess people through touch. ”
“Will there be more?” Owen asked, his jaw clenched.
“Perhaps.”
“You don’t know?”
“Despite what you seem to think, I am fairly new to all this myself,” Sylvia huffed. “Until you three walked in this morning, my Veil Walker knowledge was confined to what’s in my family’s history book. I don’t have magic of my own. I only know the stories.”
“So, is it possible to save Charles?” Jace asked, reaching out to touch the book then drawing back quickly when Sylvia swatted him.
“It’s possible. But we’ll need the other two stones first. We’ll start in High Park.”
“High Park?” I asked.
“Yes.” Sylvia hummed in thought. “The trees are not as old as I would like, but one or two may work.”
“What do you mean?” I tried to get a closer look at the book, but she pulled it away. Message received.
“We start Tuesday,” Sylvia declared.
“Start what?”
She looked exasperated. “Your training, of course.”
“For what?”
“Veil walking, so you can reopen the portal. How else do you expect to save Charles?”
Well, shit.