Lichgates: Book One of the Grimoire Saga (an Epic Fantasy Adventure) (18 page)

A ball of lavender fire sparked in her palm, flickering in the same breeze she’d used to create it.

Kara laughed so hard her cheeks hurt. The purple flame crackled, but as the memories and her control over her meditation faded, so did the flame. When all that remained was a thin trail of violet smoke, she laughed again and remembered to breathe.

“I did it!” She looked up to thank the Vagabond, but he was gone. Her smile dissolved, but the thrill didn’t.

She pushed herself to her feet in time to see a tall figure race barefoot into the curve of the path. It took her a second to recognize Twin’s twisted and tear-stained face, but the Hillsidian girl didn’t see her at all as she disappeared deeper into the forest.

Kara pulled herself over the tall bank and climbed onto the path, getting a few streaks of mud on her shirt in the process. She began after the pattering feet, but a pang of guilt ran through her. Twin was likely running from the memory she’d seen this morning. Of everyone in Hillside, Kara was probably the last person Twin would want to talk to about it. She might not want to see anyone.

After all, Kara had wanted to be alone when mourning Mom. She hadn’t answered the texts or emails from her friends, who were only trying to show their support. She’d pushed her dad to leave Florida on an early summer trip to escape the house calls. She’d pushed everyone away. But all she’d really wanted was for someone to force her to let them listen.

She took a deep breath and raced down the path toward Twin.

The trail followed the creek, and Kara lost track of how long she ran. Twigs snapped beneath her boots until the growing sting in her throat forced her to pause and breathe.

In the silence between breaths, she heard someone singing. It was a sweet and heartbreaking sound that made her want to laugh and cry and sleep all at once, and it chorused through the wood with an ever-growing vibrato. The sound rose and fell without purpose in a song that she’d never heard before.

She followed the melody, and as it grew louder, she found a spring and a small clearing. The small pool was surrounded with reeds, which grew along the bank where the spring dribbled away into a stream. The song was loudest here, and even though Kara could see Twin standing in the water, she couldn’t believe that the beautiful sound could come from any mortal creature.

The knee-high hem of the girl’s dress floated in the pool around her, and her eyes were closed so tightly that her brow creased from the strain. She poured her heart into the song, so that even the reeds on the bank tilted toward her as she sang. Kara knelt behind a tree and listened. Though she wanted to leave the girl in peace, she couldn’t walk away from that sound.

The water beneath the floating skirt began to churn. At first, there were only ripples, but as the power in Twin’s voice grew, so did the water’s reaction. The ripples became bubbles that broke and heaved, hiccupping across the girl’s skin and leaving beads of spring water along her arms. A blob of water rose from the churning pool, dripping as it stood. Excess liquid drained and splashed away until a figure made of churning spring water stood in front of Twin. It cupped her cheek with a wet hand, but she did not open her eyes or stop singing.

Reeds pulled themselves through the blob’s feet, climbing upward and coating the water in a muscular layer of weeds until the figure developed a thin waist and curved hips. Thinner, darker reeds sprung from its head to imitate hair, and rich, chocolate-colored skin bubbled through to give the creature a face.

It was Twin’s sister, born again from water and weeds. Kara gaped, her breath gone.

The dead Hillsidian’s face broke into a warm smile. She beamed down at her little sister with thick brown eyes and lifted the girl’s chin, and only then did the song break away with a sob. Twin cried and pulled the water woman into a hug.

The figure shattered as Twin touched it. Spring water shot in every direction from under Twin’s grasp, leaving her soaked in the water that had brought her sister back for a single, tragic moment. She grabbed for the reeds as they fell and she screamed in frustration, falling back into the spring with them. The pool came to her waist now that she was on her knees, and it lapped and crested over her until she screamed again and threw the weeds away. She shook and sobbed until Kara couldn’t tell water from tears.

Kara bit her lip. It would only make matters worse to let Twin know that she’d seen everything, but a single, selfish thought kept her rooted in place: Twin had brought her sister back. If Kara could create lavender fire in her palm on the first try, there was nothing stopping her from learning how to do this too, even if it took time. There was nothing stopping her from bringing her mom back.

Twin reeled around, glaring into the woods and wiping her face with wet hands. “Who’s there?”

Kara looked at the snapped twig below her foot. In her envy, she hadn’t even heard the sound of wood breaking. She couldn’t escape without Twin seeing her, so she took a deep breath, walked out from her hiding place, and leaned against the tree.

Twin groaned and pulled herself out of the spring. “You again.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to help you. I thought you would want someone to talk to.”

Kara meant to stop there, but her mouth continued without giving her a chance to think first.

“Twin, that was your sister, wasn’t it?”

“You don’t understand.”

“I know that was her.”

“It wasn’t, not really.”

“Teach me how to do it. Please, Twin.”

“Absolutely not! This is an addiction, Kara. I can’t stop.”

“I don’t care what you think it is! I have to see Mom and Dad again. I’d give anything for that.”

Twin shook her head. “No.”

“Please!”

“No! Your parents are dead!”

Kara gasped as she studied the hatred in Twin’s face. The forest weighed on the silence that followed. Kara narrowed her eyes, scowling to suppress the urge to cry.

“My last memory of my mom involves blood and a body cast, Twin! Sometimes, I can’t even remember her face. And my dad died even though I was just trying to keep him safe. Please. I need to see them one more time. Just once.” Kara covered her mouth as the tears started. Guilt ate into her and stung every inch of her body.

“No.”

Kara shoved the girl's shoulder, and Twin buckled under the blow. “You brought your sister back! You have to teach me how to do it!”

“It’s not real, Kara!”

“I don’t care!”

“That—that thing was not my sister! That was nothing but an empty memory, and I become weaker every time I see it. I lose that much more of my resolve to keep going. It kills me every time I watch her face become nothing but reeds, and yet I am completely lost and alone until I see her again! She was everything I had left!

“I’m not strong, Kara,” Twin continued, her voice softening. “No one expects anything from me. I’m a jester, a joke, a bubble that floats around and makes people laugh. No one has ever taken a moment to find out if I’m all right. I’m not. I’m weak. But vagabonds lead hard lives, and an addiction like this will destroy you. Everyone expects you to be the hero, so act like one!”

Kara leaned back against the tree, bile shooting into her mouth. Memories flooded her mind: the blood on Mom’s seat; the beads of broken glass on the dash; the expression of terror frozen on her dad’s face. Kara’s knees shook. Rage and hatred and anger and guilt all festered within her.

“If you’re weak, Twin, it’s because you won’t help someone who needs it!”

Kara raced back through the trees and left Twin in the clearing before the girl could respond.

There was no path to follow anymore. The trees were only a few feet apart, and the low branches pulled Kara’s hair as she bolted through them. She didn’t stop, not even when her throat stung and she gasped for air.

With every footfall, she tried to remember the shape of her mom’s nose or the way her eyebrow twisted when she was angry, but there was a void where the memories should have been. When she thought of her dad, she couldn’t shake the image of his eyes as they slipped out of focus for the last time.

She tripped over a root and dove into the ground, skidding on a slick layer of dead leaves. Her knees shook, and she couldn’t push herself to her feet. Instead, she scooted over to the nearest tree to catch her breath, unsure of where she was or how long she’d been running. The trees all looked the same: tall and naked for the first dozen feet before their branches stretched upward. A blood-red sun broke through the canopy.

Her heart rate slowed until the pounding in her head became manageable. She could hear the wind again, as well as the leaves that crunched beneath her whenever she shifted her weight. A waterfall roared behind a patch of trees somewhere to the left.

She stood without debating her choice and followed the noise to a cliff, where the waterfall rushed into a dark blue pool below. Her mind cleared bit by bit as she watched the sun glitter against the surging water. A thin trail led toward the waterfall and out onto a ledge behind the cascading sheet of water, where the shadowed hints of a cave appeared through breaks in the steady stream. She headed closer to see for herself.

Moss and slime layered the trail when the dirt ended and the slippery rock began. Her boot slipped more than once as she inched her way across it, but she relished the distraction and slid into a shallow cave after a few minutes of heavy focus and tip-toeing.

The air in the cave was ten degrees colder, and a refreshing chill spilled over her as she stepped inside. The humid air smelled like rain-drenched grass after a thunderstorm, and moisture condensed on her nose as she looked around. The ceiling was eight or so feet tall, so she could easily stand, but it wasn’t very deep; even the dusk’s fading evening light was enough to illuminate every nook and cranny. Loose hair stuck to her neck in the humidity, but at least the small boulders in the cave were dry enough for her to sit on them. She found a stone that had a smooth curve to it like a chair, as if someone had sat there a million times before her.

When she was as comfortable as one can be when leaning against a rock, she rubbed the pendant and summoned the Grimoire into her lap. The sunlight wouldn’t last much longer, so she massaged her eyes and accepted that she would spend the night outside.

“Can I bring back the dead?” she asked the book.

The pages flipped in answer.

It’s possible.

Her heart leapt. “How? How do I do it?”

The pages flipped again.

The Vagabond forbade his followers from bringing back the dead.

“Just tell me how to do it!”

The page turned.

Strength comes from learning lessons that are difficult to bear, and death is one of the hardest to embrace. There is a world which follows this one and once it’s seen, we aren’t meant to return. This is one of the balances which can’t be distorted. That sort of disharmony throws whole worlds into disarray.

To keep the dead in this life is selfish. You must believe that they are in a better place, no matter how soon they were called there. Those who are strong will live with the memory of their loved ones until they too may join them some distant day.

Death is part of the ultimate balance. It’s to be left to nature’s command. Remember that grief is a necessary pain. It’s your only way to heal. To starve it will destroy you.

Kara finished the last sentence as the final rays of sunlight set behind the forest. Dusk settled into the cave as she closed the Grimoire and held it to her chest. She couldn’t debate with it if she couldn’t read its answers.

The waterfall’s delicate curtain swayed on a breeze. The twilight soothed her. Crickets chirped to the heartbeat of the gushing water. She closed her eyes and listened to the lullaby, but the crunch of rocks beneath feet disrupted the song.

She jolted forward and listened again, trying to sift through the ensemble of water and wind. Sure enough, there was another snap and a shuffle. Someone—or something—had begun along the path to her waterfall.

Kara scooted against the wall closest to the noises and pressed her body on the rock. The sharp crags of the cave pulled against her tunic. Her mind raced. She didn’t know if she was even in Hillside anymore. It could be a yakona or even a wild animal, just coming home after a hunt to find a dirty little human armed with a big red book.

There was only one way in and out; she was trapped. She could trip whoever it was and send them over the waterfall, which would give her enough time to scoot out along the edge and escape. It was a short enough fall that they probably wouldn’t be hurt.

The crunching stopped, and she heard a deep breath. She held hers. A head appeared around the corner, its short black mess of hair framing a handsome olive face.

“Hey there,” Braeden muttered.

“I was about to whack you with the Grimoire,” Kara said, setting the book on the floor with a relieved sigh.

He laughed. “I’d be honored to receive such a beating, but I apologize if I startled you.”

“It’s fine.” She sat back against the smooth boulder and Braeden sat across from her, grinning as she settled against it. Her eyes stung.