Betrayal Foretold: Descended of Dragons, Book 3 (18 page)

A
bia’s
cramped hut was dense with the sharp, chemical smell and the oppressive and inescapable pressure of magic.

“Today’s the day,” she announced as the four of us filed into her home. “We’ve spent days recreating and deconstructing this sophisticated spell. Days preparing a counter-spell, and a few more avoiding the inevitable. But today’s the day we test our theory.”

We all shifted restlessly in varying degrees of discomfort. Gresham’s nerves were the most pronounced, though, admittedly, he had the most to lose. His blood was not only tied to the unspeakable curse responsible for preventing generations of Thayer’s children, it was tied to the wicked darkness of Malu. If the group of powerful and experienced people we had amassed couldn’t break the curse, it might never be broken. I could only speculate what that meant for Rowan Gresham, but it couldn’t be good. Would he continue to spiral downward, the evil force pulling him further and furtherer into himself, into the darkness? Would he eventually become like his father, obsessed with power, mad and paranoid? And now that he knew his blood held the curse together, could he live with the guilt that accompanied that knowledge? I was afraid to answer those questions. I’m sure Gresham asked them of himself, and many more.

I had seen Ewan since the uncomfortable night at the restaurant, though never alone. He popped in and out of Abia’s, checking our progress and doing odd jobs—any little thing he could do to contribute. He wasn’t rude; he was just…distant. I hoped that with time, the sting of embarrassment or rejection or whatever he felt would wear off and we could pick up where we left off. In the meantime, I missed him. I missed
us
.

“Let’s begin,” Abia ordered, pulling me from my reverie. “Rowan, you stand across from me. I’ll repeat the words of the spell and when I nod to you, release six drops of your blood into the concoction.” She nodded her head to the pot in the middle of the table, already filled with both fresh and dried herbs, and an oozing, dark liquid. A long, thin bone laid beside the pot. I’d been following the process very closely as part of my education about wards, and magic, in general. I didn’t recall seeing a bone in the ingredient list, but it was certainly not the time to ask questions.

Chills skittered down my spine as Abia began chanting the words she read from Talbot’s musty grimoire. The air was so thick my thoughts seemed accelerated in comparison, as if what was going on inside my head was in overdrive, yet the room itself in slow motion.

When Abia nodded to Gresham, he cut the palm of his hand with a knife. He squeezed his hand over the pot—calling it a cauldron felt hokey, though that’s what it was—and when the six droplets hit the mixture, it bubbled and swallowed the droplets up. Abia finished her haunting chant and stirred the congealing mixture with the bone. The mixture churned and gurgled, as if some great magic was working just beneath its surface.

I held my breath, not sure what to look for as success or failure. I supposed it was one of those things that you knew when you saw it. But as time passed, the mixture’s churning slowed and finally stopped altogether. The disappointed look on Abia’s face confirmed my fear: it hadn’t worked.

Gresham’s roar of frustration caught all of us by surprise. I jumped and threw a metaphysical dart at his face reflexively. Gaspare threw Emelie behind him and stood breathing hard, presumably in an attempt to calm his beast. He shot Gresham a perturbed glare, but didn’t chastise him.

“Excellent work, Stella,” Abia sang. “You defended yourself using magic without thinking first, without even trying.”

I hid the offending hand behind my back and gave her a little smile in thanks. Gresham rubbed the angry red scratch across his cheek and scowled at me.

“Sorry,” I mouthed.

“What now, Mother? Emelie?” Gaspare tried to move forward, to be progressive, but disappointment weighed as heavily on him as it did the rest of us.

“Now we start over. Retrace our steps. Determine where we went wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Emelie said and massaged her temple. “I can’t manage any more today. Can we start fresh tomorrow?”

“Neither can I, dear. I’ll see you all back here tomorrow.”

Gresham traced without another word, and Gaspare and Emelie made their way out the door.

“What are you going to do now?” I asked Abia once we were alone.

“I’m going where I do my best thinking: the ocean.”

“Can I come?” I asked. “I think today’s the day I’d like to learn to dive.”

Pleasure at my desire to learn her dying tradition lit her from the inside out.

“I’d love nothing more.”

* * *

I
wasn’t
sure which would burst first from the pressure, my chest or my ears. I kicked and paddled for my life toward the sunlight that filtered through the calm blue waters. When I reached the surface, I gasped and coughed, pushed back my mask and rubbed at burning eyes. So many things were painful I didn’t know which to address first.

“Diving isn’t for the faint of heart, eh?” Abia said in a wheezing laugh. She’d stayed down longer than I had, yet her breathing was normal, not like my frantic pant.

“No,” I agreed through a juicy cough. “Will I always feel like I’m going to die?”

Abia laughed and shook her head. “No. Takes practice is all. You’ll get it. Someday. If you keep practicing.” She pulled a net above her head to reveal a haul of several sea urchins and shellfish. “Got some abalone today. A good haul. I don’t know what you’re going to eat.”

My net was, of course, empty, since I hadn’t made it to the ocean floor before feeling short of breath and sprinting back to the surface in a wild panic.

“Wanna try again?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in silent dare. “Or do you need to rest?”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Of course I want to try again. A girl’s gotta eat.”

She laughed and threw a chunk of thick, green seaweed in my direction. “You smear the seaweed on your mask like this,” she said and gathered the slimy plant in her fingers. “Keeps your mask from fogging up.”

“Okay,” I followed her instruction. “Any other hot tips?”

“Yeah. Don’t flip out.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“No, really. The calmer you remain, the slower your heart rate, which enables you to stay under longer. Stay calm when you feel yourself becoming short of air and you’ll last much longer.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll try.” Following Abia’s lead, I took a deep breath and followed her down toward the ocean floor. She was taking me on short dives, not the hundred feet that she could usually reach. I could still plainly see her slim outline.

Abia stopped swimming suddenly, turned around to face me, and pointed toward the surface before hurdling herself upward.

“What happened?” I asked when I surfaced after her. “Something wrong?”

“I told you I do my best thinking in the ocean!” she said with a grin. “Didn’t I tell you? I knew something was wrong, but couldn’t quite lay my finger on it.”

“We’re talking about Gresham’s blood curse now?”

“Yes. Keep up.”

I grunted in protest. No use arguing with her.

“Our test didn’t work because it was missing one key element.”

“What is it?” I gasped, desperate for her keen observation.

“Well I don’t know
that
, Stella.” She looked at me as if I was ridiculous. I was really getting tired of people doing that.

“Wait. What? The counter-spell we made didn’t work because it was missing something, but you don’t know what it is?”

“Precisely.”

“And that’s something to cheer about?”

“Well it beats the hell out of not knowing, now doesn’t it?”

I had come a long way since my first day in Thayer. After realizing my flaws, I had worked to be more gracious, had grown less sarcastic, and had definitely learned when to keep my mouth shut.

“Yes ma’am,” I said and nodded demurely.

“Well, don’t just stand there dog paddling,” Abia said, suddenly in a tizzy. “Let’s go figure it out.”

* * *

A
bia lay
back on her well-loved sofa, the grimoire in her lap and the ancient book from The Root in her arms. She looked back and forth between the two, searching for nuances, for any subtle difference or clue that might solve our problem.

I ran my hands across the smooth leather of a new-looking club chair. “Where’d you get this furniture?” I asked. “Your clothes, kitchen supplies. Where does all this come from?”

“Gaspare brings it,” she said without looking up from her book.

“Gaspare sure takes care of a lot of people,” I mumbled, and went back to studying the translation Emelie had so generously made for me.

“Ah,” she said after a while. “There it is.”

I jumped from my chair and knelt by her on the sofa. I couldn’t understand the ancient script, but recognized the same symbols Emelie had replicated.

“What have you found?”

“See this?”

“Yes, that’s the symbol for Malu,” I said.

“Very good.” She turned to look at me, and for the first time I thought
just maybe,
she didn’t consider me a complete simpleton.

“If the original spell is tied to Malu, we cannot simply
remove
the dark force. We must
replace
it.”

“With what?”

“Well I don’t know
that
, Stella.”

“Okay. Back to the books, then?”

“Right you are.”

A knock at the door pulled us from our studies.

“Who would call at this hour?” Abia said, struggling to sit up.

“I’ll get it,” I said. “Lie back down.”

I knew it was Ewan before I opened the door. “I’m going to take a walk,” I called to Abia and stepped outside.

I looked up at the handsome face that was a window to a beautiful soul and saw my love reflected. “Hi,” I said simply.

His lips stretched in a shy smile before turning down. “I screwed up. I—” he began, but I stopped him.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk. Let’s go to my place,” I said.

Ewan shook his head, his dark curls a shadowed frame. “I’d rather go back to the waterfall, to the tree where we first made love.”

I swallowed hard as images of that day flashed through my mind. “Okay.”

Ewan held my hand as we walked. We didn’t talk at first. There was only moonlight to light the way, but I could see his pained expression as he worked through where to start.

“I screwed up,” he said again. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Well…I do. But I’m smarter than that. I should never have let on I planned to marry you. Not this early in our relationship. I know that scared the shit out of you, Stell, and I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was dumbfounded by his certainty about us. Frightened by it. The thought of a lifetime commitment and marriage sent my body into cold sweats.
Where is his confidence coming from
?
And what is wrong with me that I don’t have it? Are we not meant for each other? Wouldn’t I be sure if we were
?

“Stella? Talk to me.” Ewan saw the signs of my internal breakdown.

I held my head with both hands, distressed and nervous, and tried to communicate what I was feeling.

“I just don’t understand how you can be so sure, Ewan. I mean, I love you, I’m sure of that. But marriage and forever are huge steps. We’re so young. There’s no reason to rush into anything; we’ll live so long you’ll get sick of me long before I’m wrinkly. Can’t we just take things slowly? I only want you. Can’t we just be happy as we are for now?” I covered my eyes with my hands as I went on and on, babbling in my distress.

When Ewan didn’t reply I moved my hands and looked up at him. “What?” I said when I saw his goofy grin. “What is it?”

“That’s the first time you’ve said you love me.” His mouth was set in a satisfied line, and his eyes positively beamed with happiness. He was supremely pleased.

“No, it’s not.”

“It is. I would know.”

“No, surely not. I’ve known it. I’m sure I said it.”

He shook his head, his whole face alight with the force of his smile.

And quick as a flash the smile was gone, replaced by a look of determination, of lust.