Bone Dry: A Soul Shamans Novel (Volume 1) (2 page)

After half an hour of examining the familiar contents, I flipped the folder shut. I was getting nowhere. I needed something new. What I had was leading me to the same dead end over and over. I needed a name, someone connected to all this. But maybe next time I looked at these pages, I’d find something. Maybe tomorrow would be different. I had to keep believing things could change. Maybe if I believed it hard enough, they would.

I heard the clicking of the knitting needles as I stood from the table. I’d never been able to figure out why she did that. There was no material there for her to knit. Sometimes I thought she was trying to remind herself of the shaman she’d once been. Sometimes I thought she was trying to use the bones to pull herself back into this world, knit herself back into the fabric of reality.

After putting the file away, I grabbed my backpack of shaman supplies and made sure I had everything I needed for Kylie’s case. Mom didn’t even blink when I went into the living room to drop a kiss on her forehead.

“I have to go see a friend. I’ll be back in a little while for dinner.”

The bone needles never stopped clicking, and I swore I could hear them well after I’d backed out of the driveway.

CHAPTER 2

T
he door swung open to reveal Mr. Fisher, who towered over me like everyone other than Mom. I’d inherited my measly five feet of height from her.

“Come on in, Holly. Laura’s in her room,” he said. “Still riding your bicycle everywhere, I see.”

“As much as I can,” I said, kicking off my flip flops and pushing them with my toes into the designated guest-shoe-spot. “I like the exercise.” And the lack of a gas tank.

As I turned down the hall, he called out, “How’s your mother doing?”

I paused and swiveled to face him. “Same as always. Off on one of her work trips.”

“Can you tell her I asked about her? I’d like to stop by and see her once she’s back.” He scratched a spot just above his ear. “Tell her I…miss having her as a friend.”

“No problem.” This wasn’t the first time he’d asked about her, and I didn’t see it being the last. I’d told my mom she should call to say hi, just for a moment, before pretending to run off to do something important. But she’d been stubborn about not making contact, so I’d stopped mentioning it.

“I didn’t expect to see you today,” Laura said when I strolled into her elaborately decorated room. Green was everywhere. On her walls, on her rug, on her lampshade, along with little black cartoon cats lining the edges. Her bedspread was a swirl of green and black, forming a cool abstract graphic. A mountain of green-and-black plaid pillows rose high on her bed. It was a pretty normal room, for a rich kid into pop punk. Whenever I walked in here, I realized just how odd my house was with all the beads, the masks and the Siberian drums crowding every spare corner.

“No?” I plopped down on Laura’s king-sized bed. Papers were scattered around where she sat with a laptop propped on her outstretched legs. “Got another case today. Kylie Wilkinson.”

“Really?” Laura absently spun her nose ring.

“Yeah, the usual. She thinks she’s being haunted. Objects levitating, strange markings left in her room.”

Laura placed the laptop on the bed, leaned forward and peered through a curtain of red-and-blond highlights. “That’s not me, Holly.” She gave me an evil smile. “Wish it was, but I haven’t done anything since last week with Dean. You know I’d tell you ahead of time if I planned on ‘haunting’ someone.”

I blinked once, and Laura let out a light laugh. “Looks like you have a real case on your hands this time. How many does this make now?”

“You’re serious about this.” My heart sped up. Real cases were few and far between since we lived in such a small town. Usually, Laura used her shaman powers to make victims from school think they were being haunted, and once someone came to me, we both made off with the cash after I swooped in to get rid of the problem. Sure, it was super unethical, but I needed the money. I tried to tell myself that made it okay.

“Completely serious. I had nothing to do with it this time.”

“Crap. Someone with real problems.” I shivered. Everyone who came to me thought spirits were ghosts, but I knew better. I was pretty sure ghosts didn’t even exist, but if they did, at least they used to be humans. Spirits were more like demons than anything else, and their realm was so devoid of humanity, it made haunted houses seem as lame as our high school’s mascot. What football team wants to be The Schooners?

“Well, good thing you’ve handled a real case before.” She nibbled on the end of a black-painted fingernail.

“Yeah, but not many,” I said, ticking them off on one hand. “This will only be the third real case I’ve done. Want to help me?”

She held out her hand without hesitation, like she’d wanted me to ask her. “I think it’ll be fun to be on the other side of things for once. Count me in.”

I’d been hoping she’d be up for it but hadn’t expected it. Laura might be able to levitate objects, but banishing spirits was a lot more intense than making a TV remote float. I pulled Laura's half of the cash from my pocket and dropped it onto her open palm. “Good, because I want to try the anchor thing this time. Wasn’t psyched about doing this by myself again.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. The first time I tried to take down spirit, it attacked me. And then I fainted.”

Laura smirked. “That only happened because you were distracted by Nathan Whitman.”

I crossed my arms and met her laughing eyes. I’d gotten attacked because I hadn’t taken authentic shaman supplies with me. Because I hadn’t expected a real spirit in Seaport. So, naturally, its appearance in Nathan’s nerdy bedroom had taken me by unfortunate surprise. It attacked me. I passed out. And effectively ruined any chance of Nathan Whitman ever thinking of me as anything other than the weird girl who had fainted on him, even though I’d gotten my shit together, fetched real supplies and banished the spirit from his bedroom, saving him from future attacks by beings of Lower World.

“Anyway, let’s get started.” While Laura cleared the bed, I opened my backpack. If we were going to pull off the real thing, we needed plenty of supplies. Real supplies. Not the multi-colored beads and tarot cards from the local magic shop I used for show. The truth was, I never did any real magic when we conned someone. You don’t have to cast a spell to get your best friend to stop levitating a mechanical pencil.

“So,” Laura said, spreading a towel across the bed. “What exactly do we do here?” She hopped up and sat cross-legged facing me.

I sprinkled the crushed sage—for healing—between us, its light piney scent tickling my nose. “I’m not one hundred percent on this. Mom told me about it, but we never practiced. Said it wasn’t necessary.” I rolled my eyes, then immediately felt bad about being ungrateful. “Anyway, this spell should be straightforward. Mom said it was pretty beginner stuff.”

“Well, that would be you and me, my friend, so I hope you’re right.”

After placing the blue candle for protection in the center, I brought out matches and lit the wick. As soon as the flame sparked to life, the blood in my veins began to tingle. Power filled the room, and I heard Laura let out a light sigh. My skin prickled, and the green of Laura’s comforter became more vivid, more green, like the world had gone from standard-def to HD. I could hear my heart thumping as if it were inside my eardrums instead of inside my chest.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump
. It was as if I were more alive than I normal.

“This reminds me of how…” I sighed and stared hard at the blue wax dripping down the side of the candle. “It reminds me of how the house used to feel every time Mom was home, especially after she’d been on a case. Like she still had shaman magic in her hair or something.”

“Stop it,” Laura said. “I’m not going to let you go down that path right now, not when we have to cast a rune neither of us has ever done before. No fear, no sadness, remember? That’s our motto when doing this stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Safety first. No fear, no sadness, no strong emotions.” I repeated the words in my head and smiled at Laura. “What would I do without you?”

“For one thing, you wouldn’t have anyone to discuss the pros and cons of superhero secret identities with.”

I flipped open the rune book, the pages crackling between my fingers, and shook my head. “I still say Bruce Wayne is the secret identity and Batman is the real man.”

“But he has to put on a costume to be Batman.”

“Who’s to say that your t-shirt and jeans aren’t a costume? You could be using them to pretend you’re a normal girl, in order to hide the shaman underneath.” I glanced at the clock. “Anyway, as tempted as I am to get into this argument again, let’s get going on this or we’ll be late.”

I found the right page in the book, cut a piece of parchment from the notebook and began to draw the rune in broad, black marks. Two vertical lines with a big X between them. After I placed the parchment on the sage leaves, I met Laura’s eyes. It was time for my least favorite part—the knife. My skin stung when I pricked my thumb, drawing an instant pool of blood. Quickly, I handed the knife to Laura and she did the same.

“According to my mom, we have to mix our blood. That’s how the magic binds us together.”

“Okay, kind of weird,” Laura said, holding out her hand. “But it makes sense.”

I reached over the flame and pressed my thumb against hers, squeezing tight so our blood would mingle, binding us and our magic as one. Then, we each placed a thumb on the parchment, directly over the black marks I’d drawn. Red spread in random patterns across the paper.

“Do you think your dad is snoozing in his recliner?” I asked. “We have to do the song.”

“Is it a weekday afternoon?” Laura nibbled on a fingernail and glanced at her bedroom door like she wanted to check.

“If he hears us, then we can just say we were watching a wonky video on YouTube.”

“Okay,” Laura said, pulling her eyes away from the door. “Let’s do this.”

I dropped the parchment onto the candle and pressed my thumb back against Laura’s over the licking flames. I could feel us take a deep breath together, centering ourselves. And then we both opened our mouths and sang. The song was nothing more than vowels strung together in an easy, melodic tune, but I could feel the intensity of those sounds with every beat. I ignored the heat of the flame under my palm, too focused on what was passing between Laura and me.

It felt like my blood was rushing into her veins, our magic mixing together. The volume of our voices rose. What had started in soft whispers became a belting song. I suddenly didn’t care if her dad heard. I was too wrapped up in the magic. I missed how it made me feel like I could take on the world.

And then our voices stopped, and all I could hear was our ragged breathing and the beating of both our hearts in the same steady rhythm. Bound together by shaman magic. I felt ready for anything, bigger, taller. And because of the spark I saw in Laura’s eyes, I knew she did, too. But I quickly sobered up when I remembered what we were about to face. Kylie needed us to banish a spirit from her bedroom, and if we didn’t do this right, it would suck our life away.

***

As we walked down the winding street lined with perfectly manicured lawns and sprawling mansions, my shaman magic raced through my bloodstream, intensifying every sense. The scent of freshly cut grass and baking apple pie surrounded me and clogged my nostrils. In the distance, I could hear the whoosh of a basketball sweeping through the hoop hanging over the Lyons’ garage door. The
shhhhhhh, shk, shk, shk, shk
of a sprinkler rushed into my ears, and enveloping it all was the humid ocean air, so thick it was as if my skin sliced Holly-shaped holes through it.

The world just seemed so surreal, like I wasn’t totally connected to it. Or, actually, maybe it was that I was
more
in tune with it than normal.

Laura was quiet as our flip flops slapped the pavement. I could tell she finally realized what we were about to do. Any shaman in her right mind hated spirits. Probably feared them a little even though we had to bottle that up real tight. Because if we gave in to the fear even a little bit, a spirit
would
attack us and feed on our life. I’d only been attacked by a spirit once, but that loss of control, of feeling the days of my life slipping away from me…I knew I never wanted to let it happen again.

As we turned into Kylie’s long driveway, a breeze blew off the ocean, lifting my long, brown hair off my shoulders and blowing it behind me. I handed Laura some supplies, and she disappeared into the plants lining the drive. No one at school knew she had anything to do with my cases so we’d decided she should stay tucked inside the bushes where she couldn’t be spotted. As long as she was nearby, we’d stay bound.

Kylie was waiting for me on the front porch, just standing there with hands clasped around a thick white pillar. Her face was pale, and her body was as stiff as a corpse, but she still managed to look like a supermodel.

“Thank god you’re here,” she said when I shuffled up the stairs. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. I asked Nathan if he’d come over, but he had to work.” She pulled off her cotton headband and picked at invisible frayed ends. “It’s been doing it again today.”