11. Chapter 11
T he next morning I’m treated to breakfast in bed from the diner. I’m not sure who went and got it, but the smell of bacon and coffee has me coming back from dreamland.
“How are you feeling?” asks Matt, coming to sit beside me on the bed.
“Okay,” I murmur, bringing my hand up to rub my eyes. “What happened?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Matt says. “We were having a conversation, then you suddenly turned to face away from all of us, but these two seemed to know what was happening. Then you smiled. Then you collapsed.”
“You did come around a few times but seemed tired and cold,” adds Josh. “We tucked you into bed and took turns checking on you throughout the night.”
“When I asked the other two what happened, they said it was your story to tell, not theirs,” Matt complains. “So now can I know what happened?”
I sit up, smiling gratefully at Patrick and Josh. Patrick shrugs while Josh nods at me.
“I guess…” I say.
Patrick cuts me off. “But first, how are you really feeling? You kept waking up and would say something and then go back to sleep.”
“I’m hungry, but I’m awake,” I answer.
Josh moves over to the table, grabbing a plate and adding a sample of breakfast items to it. He tosses a few pieces in Quoth’s mouth, who happily gulps them down. Matt clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him.
“And to answer your question, as nuts as I’m going to sound, I can see ghosts. And talk to them now.”
Matt blinks owlishly at me as Josh hands me the plate. “Since when?” Josh asks. “I thought it was only when you were experiencing their deaths that you heard anything. Or something like that.”
“The little boy from the tree showed up last night. He told me ‘Thank you,’ then he touched me. That’s the last thing I remember.” I grab a strip of bacon and bite it in half.
“Guess you can’t touch ghosts even if you can talk to them,” adds Patrick. “Wait, can anyone actually touch a ghost?”
Matt looks back and forth between all of us before busting out laughing. “That’s a good one,” he wheezes out between guffaws. “You almost had me.”
Josh walks over to the bed with a plate for himself and plops onto the bed, clapping Matt on his shoulder. “I wish we were joking, but no such luck, mate.”
Matt chokes off the laughter and scans each of our faces. “Shit. You’re serious?”
“I’d have voted to wait longer to tell you, since you’ve always been a skeptic,” Josh says. “But we are about to head to Spell’s Hollow, and well… Shit hit the fan when we were up there, so better safe than sorry.”
“That’s the first time I’ve passed out,” I grumble.
“Yeah, but that was much less dramatic than some of the other scenes you’ve lived…experienced…whatever word I’m looking for.” Josh smiles, sitting down with his own breakfast plate.
“Yeah, yeah,” I sass back. “But I’d rather take a nap than be burned at the stake again.” I shudder at the memory.
“How about we try not to do either,” Patrick inputs from his seat. “Matt, get some breakfast if you want it, so we can go to the house, and you can experience all there is to experience in Spells Hollow.”
* * *
Less than an hour later, we are bouncing up the dirt road on our way back to the land of my ancestors.
“Are you sure we should be here?” asks Matt. “Something just feels wrong. Like we are walking on a grave or something.”
“I mean, that’s not a horrible description.” Patrick shrugs. “And I’d say you get used to it, but you don’t. You just learn to ignore it the longer you are up here.”
“But I find it slightly lessens when I’m with Mor,” Josh adds. “Maybe hold her hand or something and see if it helps.”
I twist from my spot in the front seat, trying and failing to find a comfortable way to push my arm toward the back.
“Maybe when we get there?” I suggest. “It should only be about ten to fifteen more minutes.”
Matt grimaces but nods.
Patrick maneuvers his car closer to the O’Byrne house than last time. We pile out, looking around at the desolate landscape. They take a few steps away from the vehicle while I hang back to let Quoth out to stretch his wings. He immediately takes off for the treeline, enjoying the chance to explore the area.
“This is both cool and creepy,” Matt says, looking from one house to the next. “So what was this place again?”
He moves closer to me and holds out his hand as Patrick gives him a rundown of the town’s history as far as his family was able to track.
“Can you show me where you found the stone?” Matt asks. “I’d love to see if there are any more around here.”
“Sure but watch your step. Obviously, no one’s done yard work for a while, so who knows what you’ll step on.” I use the hand I’m holding to lead him around the side of the house.
“This place could be better, but it looks like it’s in good shape. Why are you staying at the motel and not just camping out here?”
I pause to think about it. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it, but that’s a good idea.”
We round the house, reaching the area that used to be a garden. I point to the tree in the distance, starting to explain everything to Matt when the woman from before appears a few feet in front of us.
“Are you okay?” Matt asks.
I nod. “Yep. But one of the ladies from before is here. She used to live here when the town was still a town.”
“Told you things get active up here,” calls Josh as he and Patrick round the house to join us.
The woman is wearing the same dress as before and carrying a basket of vegetables. She steps closer, but I take a step back, dragging Matt with me. Even though I joked about enjoying my nap, I don’t really want to lose another day.
Her smile falters slightly, but she stops. She bends, sets the basket on the ground, then pushes it toward me.
I look at it, then back at the woman.
“A thank you,” she says, “for freeing me.” She lifts her face to the sky as a light shines down from above, bright enough I have to look away. When the light fades, the woman is gone, but the basket of vegetables sits on the ground.
“Where did that come from?” asks Matt, leaning toward the basket.
“What happened?” asks Patrick, coming up on my other side and taking my hand.
“Free food?” asks Josh.
“I don’t know,” I answer all of them. “The lady who was gardening put it there. Then she was consumed by a light, so I guess she passed over. Before she left, she thanked me for freeing her.”
“What did she mean by that?” asks Patrick. “Freeing her from what?”
“Maybe whatever has those vines being super creepy and alive…” Josh says with a shudder.
“What vines, and why are they creepy?” asks Matt.
“Long story,” Josh says. “I’ll catch you up on it later. But first, what’s the game plan?”
I look around the empty dead yard. “See what else we can find around the house and start training my magic, if I have any…”
“You do,” Patrick says. “I could sense it from early on.”
“Of course you have magic,” Matt mutters under his breath. “You can see ghosts; what more is magic in the mix?”
I snort a laugh. “I get it,” I tell him. “I didn’t believe it at first either.”
His face flushes slightly, but he nods.
“I’d like to go poke around in the yard and near that tree. We may find more gems and stones,” Matt says, turning in that direction.
“Okay,” Josh pipes up. “I’ll go with you and fill you in on some of the other stuff that’s been happening around here.”
Matt nods, and the two of them walk off, aiming for the treeline..
“That leaves you and me, sweet cheeks,” Patrick purrs. “So, what do you want to do? Search the house more or have some witch practice first?”
I shake my head at his new nickname for me and think through my options. “We’ve already searched most of the downstairs… I guess we should see if you are right and I can do more than talk to ghosts.”
He smiles, turning to survey the area around us.
“Would going back to the middle of the houses be a good option for a place to practice? That area only had one tree, so it’s pretty open,” Patrick asks.
I turn and glare at him, remembering the feeling of fire licking at my legs from the last time I stepped onto the grass.
“Didn’t think so. So how about we go over there?” He points toward the side where the crypt rests beneath the trees.
“Aren’t you worried about the vines deciding to eat us?” I ask.
“They don’t eat people; they simply trap them in stasis in the crypt,” Patrick answers. “But no, because we aren’t going to get that close to the crypt. Our goal is to have an open area to practice while we figure out what your affinity is.”
That makes sense and should hopefully limit the amount of damage to the already weakened structures.
We make our way to the middle of the flat lawn, standing in knee-high dead grass. Spinning in a circle, Patrick nods.
“This is good. Now, every witch has magic that tends to lean toward one element or another. I have a guess where yours will be, but we should test all five just to be sure.”
“What’s your affinity?” I ask.
“Fire,” he answers. “My family wanted me to join the family business and be a firefighter, but I followed my passion into tattooing.”
My mouth falls open in surprise. “I’m glad you’re doing what makes you happy. So fire, water, wind…you said five, right?”
“Yep.” Patrick nods. “Earth and spirit.”
“Well, if that doesn’t hit the nail on the head. Why do we need to check all of them? I see ghosts. Of course mine would be spirit.”
“Some witches and warlocks have more than one affinity. We need to see what we are working with here.”
He asks me to trust him—which I already do—and walks over to the tree line, returning with some small sticks.
He stops a few feet in front of me, holding his hand out flat. “First, let’s try wind. Feel inside yourself for a warm spot that you haven’t noticed before. Most people say it’s near their center. Can you find it?”
I close my eyes and turn my focus inward, searching for this warmth inside he mentioned. After a few minutes, I notice a tiny spot that matches his description.
“I think I found it, but it’s so small, like the size of a grape or something.”
His brow creases. “Glad you found it, but that doesn’t seem right. I’ve sensed a lot of power from you, especially when you are caught in the death memories.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, focus on that spot and call the warmth up. Draw the power through your arms and to your hands. Tell it what you want it to do and create a breeze that will knock the sticks from my hand.”
I take a step closer to him, but he shakes his head, stopping me in my tracks.
“Magic can happen over a distance. The longer you practice, the greater the distance, but even to start, a few feet should be doable. And it keeps you from being tempted to smack them out of my hand.”
I laugh a little, but he doesn’t. Guess there’s a story there.
“Okay,” I agree, closing my eyes, then mentally reaching inside to the little warmth I found. I tug on it, but there’s no response. I plead with it mentally, but it refuses to move, staying tucked safely in my center. I dig my nails in and try to force it to flow up my arms, but it seems to shrink the more I try.
I give up with a sigh. “It’s no use. The magic won’t come, and it seems to be withdrawing more with everything I’m trying.”
Patrick steps into my space reaching up and stroking my cheek. “It’s okay, Mor,” he murmurs. “These things take time.”
“Do we have time?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but we have to hope we do.” He leans forward, brushing a kiss against my lips. It’s feather-light but makes me want more. I grab his shirt and tug him back to my mouth, adding more heat to the kiss. I feel his lips tilt into a smile, then he devours my mouth.
My blood and body heats at the promises his mouth is making, and I moan. He grunts in reply and plunges his tongue into my mouth, stroking and tasting every inch.
I pull back with a gasp, struggling to get my breathing under control. I feel lighter suddenly, the tiny ball of magic expanding from my center until I can feel it filling every cell in my body. My hand flexes, and the magic responds, eagerly awaiting my every command.
“Patrick,” I huff. “I can feel it. My magic has grown, and it’s responding to my summons now.”