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Authors: K. Dicke

Spring Tide (36 page)

BOOK: Spring Tide
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“Thank you,” she whispered and then turned her attention back to the girl. “
The interference
at five weeks … I can’t believe it. Maybe you are The One—”
Brown lightning overcame her.

_______

T
he sun scorched my arms and legs, my mouth and tongue as dry as particle board. But my insides felt like they were frozen solid. I opened my eyes and turned my head away from the glare that was burning my face.
What time is it?
I sat up and wiped the grit from my eyes, an image of swirling red mist vivid in my memory.
J!
I slowly started to crawl toward the shore, every limb in my body aching, the sea glass pendant dragging the ground. He wasn’t there.
Oh God, he is gone.
That last picture of his face appeared in my vision. “He’s dead.” The phrase echoed in my head thirty times by an unfamiliar voice.
No!
I rebelled against the idea and immediately felt razor-sharp ice picks stab into my stomach. It hurt so bad that my elbows gave out and my face hit the ground. I carefully touched myself where the pain had been. There was only skin, no blood or wound.

“He’s dead.” The strange voice in my mind said again.

“No!” I repeated the word over and over. The louder I said it the deeper the frigid piercings went into my middle. But I kept saying it until my voice was barely audible and the punctures had died down to pinpricks.

Dead. I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down knew it was true. I saw black energy pass through his body. That didn’t happen when Devon took down Donovan. And Devon could have run Jericho through with his blade, but he didn’t. He didn’t because it would’ve been overkill. But mostly I knew because I couldn’t feel Jericho’s warmth or anything of him. There was no connection and I’d always felt it before, even when he was all the way across the Atlantic in Ireland.

Thin streams of salt water moved over my hands and into my eyes, the tide coming in.

Julia. Julia can help.
I sat up as quickly as I could, got back on all fours, and turned my head left and right, searching for her and Donovan. There was only sand and sea.
Where are they?
I slowly rose and trudged to the house to find her and some water, cursing with every step because my body felt so heavy and slow. Once through the back door I called for her, my voice crackling. No one answered. I limped to the kitchen, took a bottle of water from the fridge, and threw it down my throat. Before starting into a second, I doubled over and my stomach spilled into the sink.

When the room stopped spinning and the walls seemed vertical again, I roamed the house and called her name again. No one was there. I didn’t know what to do so I sat on the floor. The sun went behind a cloud and a shadow fell over the house, bringing with it unbearable anguish. “He’s dead.”
But I need him!
The voice wouldn’t shut up. Amid the haze of nausea and fatigue, feelings of anger, regret, fear, confusion, and loss shot into me like a thousand bullets. I started to cry and didn’t stop until I couldn’t get air into my lungs. It could have lasted an hour. It could have lasted six hours. And after that, I lay there numb on the tile for another hour.

I finally got up and went to the bathroom to wash my face. My fingers got caught in the tangles in my hair and I glanced in the mirror. I held an inhale. Chills swept my body from the inside out. My breathing became too rapid and deep. I put my face two inches from my reflection. A trash can was already in my hand and a second later, half the mirror was in pieces on the counter.
Ava!

I bolted out of the house. Outrage over everything that had happened poured through me and I straightened every finger on both hands. Nothing. I threw my hand toward the water, envisioning my energy, but no magic came forth. Pointing the index finger of my left hand toward the sky, I went through the process again with only that digit. No green sparkles, no flash of red beneath the nail like I’d seen seconds before I passed out.
Did that happen? Was it an aftereffect from her light being in my eyes?
More questions started slamming my brain too fast.
What did Ava do to me? Why doesn’t my magic work? Why did she take J’s body? What about Donovan? Julia? Did she take them too?

Then another question arose.
What if she comes back
? I was completely defenseless.

Panic lit a fire under my feet and I finally heeded Jericho’s warning—I ran. I jotted a quick note and left it on the kitchen counter before going to my car.

After locking the back door, I stared at the ocean. Hearing the thrum of the waves made me revisit the previous night. The discharge of energy I’d released was well beyond anything I’d ever thought possible, had left me weak. I’d probably depleted my supply and needed sleep like other times. Suddenly, calm settled over me as a new realization set in.
I found my purpose
. Devon was gone. Heart, soul, and mind, I knew, really knew that I did what I was meant to do. I’d also lost everything in the process. But still, that truth gave me a little peace, peace I needed to hold onto to keep going and continue the good that Jericho had shown me in everything he’d ever done.


He’s not dead.” Barbed wire infused with ice strangled my center, making me cry out, but I said the words out loud again so I could try to believe them. At that second the sea glass warmed against my skin, blocking the cold and the voice. I took it in my hand and closed my eyes, a small smile forming on my lips.

I got in my car and turned the key. The engine rolled over and I jammed it into gear, the words to “Daughter of Time” keeping me company.

EPILOGUE

S
he stood in the courtyard, her eyes on the thousand-year-old Irish stone walls that were colored salmon in the early morning light. She counted the others that were milling around and talking. There were many more than when she’d left.

“Where’s Kris?” She scanned the area again and spied the man who had every color of hair: gray, white, black, brown, blond, and red. “Collin!”

He crossed the yard, the voices of the others dying down as he neared her. “The silvers are working on Donovan, have him in the west tower. So far he’s the only one to come back injured.”

“You haven’t been signaled?”

He shook his head.

Her head fell back and she pressed her palms together, bringing her hands to her mouth as she smiled. “Then he’s gone! There was no black mist! It’s over for now!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kris. She—”

“The new green?”

“Yes. She used
the interference
. I’m sure of it. It all happened so fast but Devon was there and then he wasn’t, but there was no sign of him or his magic afterward.”

A woman of the assembly took her elbow, her eyes glowing white. “I’m so confused. I was with Paula and then I was here, but she isn’t. Why?”

Another man stepped to her. “Why were we brought to assembly?”

A third approached. “Darks showed up at my home. Half of my household didn’t make it here. What the hell is happening?”

She regarded the group. The mention of darks had many of them pacing, their questions coming at her too fast, the volume of their speech rising.

She ignited a twelve-foot flame from her palm. “I know many of you have heard the talk about the dark assembly, that they’ve become a band of thieves, and that our world is in conflict. But I believe Devon was stopped tonight and—”

A cheer erupted from the gathering. Some began dancing. Others stood like statues.

“As for those who weren’t returned,” she continued, “we don’t know
their
intentions right this second. Some of us may have been kept back for a very good reason. And that, I think, shows that whatever Devon was trying to start tonight has been cut short—”

A louder cheer drowned out her voice.

She motioned to a younger man near the front of the assembly. “Ari, can you please do a roll call or something so we know who’s here and who’s not?” She looked to Collin. “When was the last time we did that? Never. I need to go to Donovan.”

He walked with her. “Be prepared—he’s in bad shape.”

“I know. I’ll give him as much of myself as I can.”

They cleared the entrance and wound through the corridors.

Collin stopped her at the stairwell and took her arm. “Has Jericho been returned? I haven’t seen him.”

She didn’t reply, her eyes on the stone floor.

“Well then, if the new green shows, I’ll look after her. She’ll be easy enough to spot.” His eyes lit deep green. “Most arrived tonight at odd intervals. She may still be coming.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I hope so. She was unconscious when I was brought here.”

“For as young as she is, using
the interference
would have taken everything out of her.”

“And
they
may have wanted her to remain, might’ve taken her to another assembly. I won’t know until I convene, but Donovan comes first.” She motioned to the spiral in front of them. “It’s a lot of stairs, my friend.”

“You look worried.”

“I’m worried about Donovan. I’m not worried about the assembly. We adapt, we change. And with Kris, the dark days will be over very soon.” She started up the steps. “She’ll do what she has to, same as you. We all will.”

_______

To be continued in
Tidal Wave

UNTITLED, FOR J

By Kris Edwards
Come out with me, can’t turn away from me,
Come out with me, I’ve waited patiently.
I’ll feel your fire flame, your perfect eyes the same,
Come out with me, come out with me, he said.
You walk me out into the rising tide,
The waters deep, your fingers pulling mine.
Connection weighs, I’m drowning in your sea,
Tell me who you are, tell me who to be, I said.
You hear it in the wind, you see it in my eyes,
I am forever yours and you will soon be mine.
Waves revive our skin, where they end we begin,
Come out with me, just come out please, he said.
’Cause your whispers to my soul are the whispers in the waves,
Time will make it so, I’ve waited years and days.
And your whispers heal my heart, it echoes in my ears.
Come out with me, come out with me, he said.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There would be no
Spring Tide
without the help and encouragement of a great many people. Each of the folks below, old pals and new friends, has a purpose in their life, and inspires me to keep purpose in mine.

Thank you, Jesse, for teaching me to duck dive (my bad writing habits) and navigate an unfamiliar break (story craft). Thank you, Jane, for giving me a long board (good advice) and a short board (seriously silly fun), and for cheering me on. You are both so special to me. Shakas all around to Karinya, Morgana, Oceana, Amanda, Catherine and Beth for making the ride more personal and fulfilling—each in your own way.

Thank you, Alex and Charlie, for being patient with me when I was waxing my board (keyboard, that is), and making me take five to play Four Square. Thank you, Jim, for having confidence in me, for pushing me to go on safari (literally and figuratively), for giving me pointers on foot position (the market), and for administering healing creams when I had major rash (freak attacks caused by plot issues.). I love you all madly.

Jazz hands to Heidi and Connie, my surf sisters, for sharing a party wave with me (for real) and so many giggles. Insane gratitude to Tree, Ang, and Sheri, for pulling seaweed out of my hair (putting a smile on my face and in my heart every day). Love y’all. Bear hugs to Mom, Dad, and Libby for being my tribe, and backing me up when the waves were mush or pounding (my unpredictable mood swings). I feel blessed to have you all by my side.

Too much surfing metaphor? I agree. But learning to surf is hard and so is writing—at least for me. So I’m going to keep paddling out and popping up, hoping that someday I might finally pull out the all-powerful bottom turn or a nice tight cuttie (rock a good story). To all the surfers out there, I admire y’all; wish I had a fraction of your skill (and an ocean nearby).

BOOK: Spring Tide
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