CHAPTER 17

 

 

 

Morgan perused the family spell book, keeping his touch delicate on the pages, careful of the worn, scarred binding. “Where did you get this?”

“It belonged to our father and was passed down through the generations. Kept in a fire-proof, magic-proof, everything-proof safe for the better part of the last twenty years.” Astix stood looking out the window, shielding her eyes from the glare. Snow fell lightly to soften the already covered ground, reflecting the light like a mirror. She walked over and sat next to Morgan, and tapped a finger on the spine of the book. “We figured it was our best bet.”

“This is magnificent! Priceless.” Oh, he was definitely in his element here.

“We used it weeks ago to try and draw Darkness out, along with the location spell burned into Aisanna’s skin. We realized too late that she was using us. Maybe this time, we can use what we found.”

Morgan flipped indiscriminately, his gaze eating up the pages and memorizing what he saw. The scholar in him jumped for joy at the opportunity to study such a document. The magic of his heritage responded in kind to the history there. So many spells and enchantments written by those long-dead hands. Magic some may not recognize, the knowledge lost over the years, and resurrected for this special purpose. It made his insides tingle like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket.

“This must go back hundreds of years.”

“Three hundred and fifty-two, to be exact. Please be careful with it.”

“Of course, of course. This is a perfectly preserved microcosm of history.” His smile threatened to blind her. Morgan cradled the book on his lap, hesitant to let it out of his sight until after he’d had time to peruse it. “Does this detail the birth of your line?”

“Not entirely. There are hints here and there. Little breadcrumbs left for us to follow. I, ah, haven’t been welcome at home for the last twelve years of my life. I don’t have much information to give you on the subject. If you want more, you’d be better served asking Aisanna.”

His expression softened. “Please. Tell me what you know.”

They had gathered in the living room, with their best shot at saving Karsia nestled between them.

Astix sighed and stared at the book. “Our roots are in Eastern Europe, although most of the written accounts are from after the Puritans arrived in America searching for religious freedom. We survived the trials and inquisitions. We know from personal experience our line includes Cecilia and Vane Cavaldi through the birth of their son sometime around 1200 AD. But we don’t know his name.”

“I would love to sit down and have you tell me the whole story at some point.” Morgan would need days to prepare and a bevy of note-taking paraphernalia at his disposal. Definitely the seeds here for another research paper.

“Maybe sometime. If sometime ever comes.”

Morgan was completely absorbed, staring history in the face. He’d been around for it all, of course, but to see it from someone else’s perspective? To see the vibrant pieces of their history in their own handwriting? The opportunity was rare and one he considered priceless.

“Look at these letters. Spells, recipes…” He adroitly removed a dried stem of some herb that had been pressed between pages. “It’s simply magical.”

“Well, yeah, that’s our currency of choice. Now get your coat on.” Astix rose, grabbed her own jacket, and started outside. “You’re going to need it.” She sent the call over her shoulder.

Morgan threw his coat over his shoulders and scrambled after her, the tome tucked under his arm, his glasses askew. “I’m coming.”

Karsia would be down soon, returned from whatever mysterious errand she’d gone upstairs to accomplish. He fervently hoped it was a trip to the bathroom and nothing more. He wouldn’t put anything past her. Not anymore. She’d changed too quickly, the switch one she thought she could hide from the rest of them.

He knew better.

He’d been in her mind and knew the intricacies of her being in a way more intimate than intercourse. He could tell when she was lying. And he knew they were running out of time.

The instant the wind penetrated his clothing, his body protested crossly. He was not a fan of the cold, he decided on the spot, and tried to see the beauty in the weather. The day was fresh and clear, a smattering of flakes dotting the air. Dappled sunlight filtered through the thick black branches. No reason to expect the worst.

Although he’d never been an idealist.

The door slammed behind him and Karsia stalked out, her strides long, looking like a rabid wolf. Shoulders dropped. Arms tensed. Mouth half open.

“Not now,” she said testily, striding past him when he tried to speak to her. She kept to the shadows of the tree line and walked around the field.

Astix stomped her feet to keep the blood flowing as they waited outside for the others. “Ignore her. I’m sure she’s anxious to get this over with. The one you want is halfway through on page 266, by the way.” She gestured toward the spell book. “I think Aisanna bookmarked it.”

Morgan hated to rush and would have preferred hours of solitary time to record and analyze every nugget of information held within the aged bindings. Reluctantly, he moved to the page in question and surveyed the words written there in ancient, untidy script.

Drawings and random scrawls in Latin dotted the margins. He forced himself to focus on the spell. This wasn’t the time to get distracted.

With his finger hovering over the words, Morgan read them aloud. “Bound within and set without. Ancient power held with clout…” He squinted, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose. “How can you read this drivel?”

“It took some practice. Practice and a bottle of aspirin for a headache. After a while, you don’t notice the handwriting anymore.”

“I highly doubt it. I’ve seen some scratchy penmanship before, but this…this is illegible.”

“Good thing you won’t be the one reading it, then.”

Morgan finished his brief perusal and tuned in to the energies of the book, that spell in particular. Yes, there was true power there. It lay in wait. Ready for the right incantation, the right ritual, the right oomph behind it to unleash the magic. The right year and month and position of the moon.

Fate was behind this, he knew. They wouldn’t have found the spell without a guiding hand.

“It’s been waiting a long time for someone to appreciate it. Lots of secrets here,” he said.

Astix shook her head and stared at him. “Good to hear. Anyway, the spell, plus black onyx, bloodstone, agate, and the fact that it’s a Saturday should be enough to get the bitch back where she belongs.” She stalked forward. “Out of my sister.”

“I don’t know about the Saturday thing but I’ll trust your judgment. This is too far outside my purview for me to offer any kind of concrete help. I’m a Greek philosopher by nature. If you need help dealing with mythology of the Mediterranean—”

“I’ll know who to ask, thanks.” She pressed her lips together. “You’ll be my magical backup if we need it. And we are going to need it.”

“Somehow you don’t seem too sure.”

“Who can be sure of anything?”

Morgan closed the book with a breath of dust rising from the pages. “When all of this is over, I would like a chance to talk to you,” he reiterated.

“When all of this is over, I expect you to tell me who you really are.” Astix turned her odd-colored eyes on him. “I would be happy to have a chat once we get that bit out of the way.”

Morgan grinned, holding out his hand. “You have a deal.”

He caught the flash of tattoos as she gripped his palm, shaking once.

Karsia stalked toward them, furious. “I would appreciate it if we kept the touching to a minimum.”

Astix made sure to step a solid two feet away from Morgan on the off chance Karsia went back on her word against hurting family. “It’s fine. We’re set.”

Aisanna opened the door behind them, shrinking back from the cold. “It’s like the Antarctic out here.”

“And getting worse,” Elon said over her shoulder, staring at the snow. “Are you sure I can’t come?”

“You would only be in the way. Or worse, you might get hurt, and I couldn’t handle that. I would tear this world apart.” Aisanna leaned in for a farewell kiss. “I’ll come back to you.”

He tried to give her a smile. “You’d better.”

“If everyone is done with this touchy-feely nonsense, I would love to get on the road and actually do something instead of talking.” Karsia cracked her knuckles. “We’d waste the next month talking if it were up to any of you.”

Morgan gestured toward the trees, where somewhere out there his car was collecting snow. “After you, my sweet.”

She pushed past him. “You’re a disease.”

“That’s why you keep me around.”

Aisanna trailed after them, while Astix stood for a moment, staring out into the distance. There was nothing, just the crunch of feet fading as the others walked away. Soon she heard only the wind.

“Leo, where the hell are you?”

 

**

 

They piled into the car, with Morgan graciously offering to take the back seat when Aisanna complained of motion sickness. With the eldest at the wheel and the youngest by her side, they took off down the snowy road. Prepared for anything. Prepared to lose whatever tail may appear or whatever car beams cut through the gloom of the woods.

The sisters were not taking any risks.

They were about to walk straight into a situation with a tenuous outcome and little chance for success. Logically, most people would run away with their tail between their legs. Leave the mess for someone else to clean up. Morgan didn’t care what most people would do. He had little use for the rest of the world. These women went above and beyond.

The things we do for people we care about, he mused. Though to be honest, the whole concept of doing something and expecting nothing in return was new to him. Unfamiliar. He was more used to being on his own. Constantly on guard against tricks and manipulations, the whims of the gods. It had taken years to figure out not everyone wanted to play him.

Tonight, with these three women surrounding him, Morgan was prepared to give and be and do everything he could.

“How long of a drive is it?” he asked.

“Long enough for you take a cat nap,” Aisanna called over her shoulder. “Buckle in for a long ride.”

Morgan took the opportunity to whip out the small notebook he kept in the pocket of his coat. A pencil stub accompanied the pages and he set to writing down his thoughts and opinions before they left his mind. Sparing a look at the back of Karsia’s head, he got to work.

 

She’s very powerful. They all are, in their own separate ways. They have magic passed down through heredity and gender. I’d heard about hereditary witches. About family lines dating back into antiquity and strong gifts associated with the elements. From what I understand, it is virtually unheard of for a woman to inherit her father’s magic. Yet one has. Have I been ignoring what is right in front of my face, going on the assumption that witches were a dying breed instead of a thriving culture their own?

I could slap myself.

The sisters are intriguing creatures. They seem to have accepted me as one of their pack, which makes me wonder what has happened in their short lives to make them trust me, of all people, instantly and without hesitation. And after all they have experienced, too. Aisanna, emotional and sweet, more so for the fact that she tries to hide her vulnerability. Astix is harder, more competent. More in control of her emotions and able to see the world for what it is. I look forward to speaking with them in depth after this is finished.

I’ve seen now the extent of Karsia’s fall from grace. No longer is it a simple dark entity shadowing her. Even her skin takes on a tint, a sheen of something otherworldly. It is there in her eyes, which were once the intriguing blue and yellow and green of her sisters. I’ve seen them in the other realm, when she can be herself. But here the color is lost. The blackness of her pupils has begun to seep into the cornea. Disturbing.

What she can do is astonishing. The One Who Walks in Darkness seems to have cut off any earth magic and substituted the tainted power of the damned.

I am very sorry for what happened to their mother. Not only is it devastating, something horrible to experience on the worst of days, but it came at an inopportune time as well. The sisters vow to punish the person responsible. Yet they are able to set their grief aside to focus on the larger picture—saving their sister from the shadows.

Karsia.

She no longer has the capacity to experience what she perceives as weaker emotions. Pain, sadness. Empathy. She is filled with the need for vengeance. It is something she views as imperative. I fear she will come to hate me along with her sisters for wanting to help her. She now sees her powers as a gift, an opportunity to right wrongs.

If she goes down that path there will be no redemption for her.

Still, I would cherish the opportunity to love her—

 

“What the hell are you doing back there, Morgan? Are you writing things about me in your little diary?”

Karsia’s scalpel-sharp tone jerked him out of his thoughts and had him blinking at her. “No. I mean, it’s not a diary.”

She scoffed and smacked at the leather-bound journal until it fell to the floor. “Cut it out. I mean it.”

Morgan reached down and gathered it to him, stowing the book in his pocket before folding his hands in his lap. “Yes, ma’am.”

“If I wanted to be studied like a lab rat, I would have turned myself over to the Claddium when this started.”

Morgan held his hands up in mock surrender. “I assure you, lab rats are not part of my scholarly repertoire. You are totally safe from me.”

Karsia bared her teeth and raked a glare over him using the rearview mirror. “Your quips aren’t welcome.”

“And here I thought you appreciated my sense of humor.” Morgan arched a brow before turning to look out the window at the passing scenery. Unbroken miles of bare tree trunks in dull brown and gray, silhouetted against unbroken expanses of pristine snow. They were in for another long night.

After that, conversation waned. It didn’t bother him. Aisanna drove steadily along icy roads, her hands clenched at the wheel.

How had they found the stone in the first place? After he got past that miraculous idea he could almost accept, almost, seeing it.

Coupled with his intense desire to help Karsia, there was a huge amount of excitement. He remembered again his first meeting with the archeologist in charge of the dig site. His first glimpse at the magnificent tablet.

If only Morgan could go back and tell his younger self, yes, he understood the importance of the find. The harsh repercussions of the described tale. Most heady of all, the truth of what they said. He’d seen the descendants of the union, of the couple destined to keep the balance, and was on his way to see the true Telos Amyet, set down by the creator above.

Certainly not how he’d planned to spend his week. But he could live with it. And tried his best to ignore the thickening air, where he could hardly take a breath. Their plan would work because it had to work. Because they had no other choice but to succeed.

He didn’t ask how Aisanna knew where to go when the roads looked the same to him. The woods lovely and deep. Covered in snow. Astix glanced out the back window once, twice. More times than he could count.

“Whoever you’re looking for, they won’t be able to find us,” he told her, speaking softly. “We’ve made sure.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she answered truthfully.

Fragmented talk followed, broken only by the occasional swipe of the wiper blades against the freezing slush on the windshield. His Crown Victoria was getting a workout. He thanked himself for remembering to have brand new tires installed weeks earlier.

The sky was an unbroken expanse of gray, the sun remaining hidden behind the clouds. Morgan had always loved how the weather could turn on a dime from something beautiful to deadly. They didn’t have snow in Greece, where he’d been born and spent many a fantasy weaving a winter wonderland of sparkling ice and fresh-fallen powdery snow.

He focused on the sights around him instead of the black cloud sitting in the front seat. A genuine ticking time bomb the closer they got to their destination.

They drove for hours and only stopped once on their trip to fill up the gas tank. Morgan offered his credit card, was instantly turned down. The sisters took care of their own. Their problems and their debts. It was the least they could do for taking his car, Aisanna told him. He knew it would be no use to argue with them.

On they drove, across state lines. Interestingly, they headed north into Michigan, climbing higher in elevation. Morgan sighed. There was nothing to do except wait. He found the process increasingly difficult. He longed to be there already, and would have been if not for the presence of the three mortals under his protection. The mortals he’d be unable to carry. It stung, knowing his wings didn’t have the oomph to get them there. It certainly would have saved on time.

At last, Aisanna flipped the blinker and headed off the highway onto rural back roads. She kept the car at a pace just below the speed limit until they reached a dirty brown sign indicating their destination.

“Well, here we are,” Aisanna said on an exhale.

Morgan peered through the window until his breath fogged the glass. “Hiawatha National Forest? The stone’s in there?”

“Where did you think it would be? Protected in a secret government containment facility? Or on state land like a monument?” Aisanna asked curtly.

“I guess I just…well, I didn’t expect this.” He refrained from pressing his nose against the cool glass. “I thought it would be located in Europe, to be honest.”

“I think,” Astix began, “the stone goes wherever it wants. Untethered by physics and logic. That’s how it feels when I get close.”

“How did you find this place?”

“Don’t ask.”

They drove toward the gates of the park. This time of year, there was little security and even fewer campers and hikers. They managed to get into the park unseen. They made their way along a single-lane road, with the motor sputtering lightly.

He reached forward and dropped his hand on Karsia’s shoulder. “We’re almost there. I hope you’re ready.”

She turned to him with an unreadable expression. “Are you?”

Morgan removed his palm and sat back before she could do anything. She’d been oddly silent the majority of the drive. Nary a nasty comment or dead pigeon to mark her mood. Whether she remained under control was something they would see soon enough.

Morgan had the sneaking suspicion she was playing them.

“Do you remember the way to the cave?” Astix asked Aisanna.

“It’s been burned into my memory. So, yes.”

“Well, the only time we were here included a trip through the forest and nearly getting lost before we reached Gladstone.”

“Both of you shut up,” Karsia snarled.

Morgan felt oddly out of place. His own siblings would consider the moment droll and either move on from it or interfere in a way that ended with tragedy. Most of them were still stuck in the ancient past and demanded tribute, for goodness sake. They would never appreciate the familiarity of this singular interaction. And would probably see it as entirely too human and miles below their standards.

It was one of the things he appreciated most about the people whose dreams were under his care.

“We go on foot from here.”

Aisanna pulled the car into an empty lot and turned the key to the off position. The motor sputtered and hissed before falling silent. For a moment the four of them simply sat, listening to the hush.

Karsia was the first to open her door, slamming it behind her. The shadows gathered close to her.

“Let’s get this over with and hope we don’t make it worse,” Aisanna said softly.

“Careful, she has great hearing.” Morgan drew his coat tighter around his lanky form and prepared for the cold. “You can never tell what she’s able to ferret out from a simple whisper.”

The breeze smacked him in the face like an invisible hand and stole his breath. Risking exposure, Morgan called on his own gift and increased the fat deposits in the pertinent areas of his body. Instantly his stomach pooched and his thighs pressed against the material of his pants. His knees protested the extra weight but he knew it was necessary. Especially considering he’d forgotten his gloves.

With his hands shoved into his pockets, he walked to Karsia and cleared his throat. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked her, teeth chattering.

“It’s what I’m supposed to want,” she confided. Black eyes slashed across the forest floor and took in everything they saw. Stored the information and moved on. “I like being this way.”

She turned to him and the look in her eyes had Morgan taking an involuntary step back. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do.” White teeth gleamed when she drew back her lips. “I do mean it. You can only imagine the power I feel. I can do anything.” She breathed in deep and smiled. “Punishing the Claddium would be the start of it. This world could be mine if I desired it. I have raw strength flowing through my veins and I love it.”

He wanted to tell her not to say those things, not to talk at all. Instead, he came out with “We’ll see what happens later, my dear. You might change your mind along the way. I believe we have a good walk through the woods ahead of us.”

“You believe correctly.” Aisanna shouldered her pack of supplies and stared at them. The large furry hat hid the majority of her face from view, the ensemble completed with scarf and mittens. The abominable snowman in an adorable package. Astix didn’t burden herself with such things, relying instead on a simple hat and jacket for warmth.

Aisanna pointed to a small deer path winding through the trees. “We head this way.”

“How are we going to see when it gets dark?” Morgan asked.

Karsia shoved him aside. “Leave it to me, Professor.” Calling on her magic, she held out a fist. It immediately burst into flame. “See?”

Morgan swallowed hard. “Try not to burn the whole forest to the ground.”

“But think of what a lovely sight it would be.” Marching ahead, Karsia kept her arm lifted to light their way.

The others trailed reluctantly behind her with footsteps silenced by the powdery snow. None of them looked at each other.