Spirit (24 page)

“Thanks,” Steven
said to Sherry, putting his hand on her arm and giving it a squeeze. “It really
means a lot that you spoke out for us.”

“Of course,” she
said quickly, her eyes darting to Jodi’s back before she looked at Steven
again. “Listen,” she whispered, stepping closer to Steven, “if the vote should
go against you, I’ll help you anyway, and I think I can convince Jane too.”

“Really?” Steven
blinked at Sherry. This woman was almost a stranger to us, but she was willing
to go against her High Priestess’s wishes to help us. “But why?”

“Because I think
it’s the right thing to do.”

***

Though I
couldn’t tell time here, the ache in my lower back and the twinge between my
shoulders told me I had sat hunched against that tree for at least a couple of
hours. I groaned as I unfolded myself and tried to work out the kinks.

I glanced around.
Jacob and Balor were still sleeping by the fire, and Fearghus and Angus slept
on their feet by the river. I knew they would wake before long and we would
break camp and continue on. If I wanted to be in any shape to ride, I needed to
get some sleep. Breaking the connection to the looking glass was difficult until
I saw Steven drop Jodi off before he headed home. Knowing they would do
something to find me, whether Deb was willing to or not, gave me a fluttering
of hope, pleasantly twisting my stomach.

I knew they
would have a better chance of succeeding with the entire coven helping them,
but if Jane and Sherry helped them, they would at least have a complete circle
with four points to get them through the complicated spell. With our natural
abilities, we had never worried about having a complete circle. But with each
day, their powers grew weaker and weaker. They needed to follow the rules of
magic to the letter now.

I crept over to
Balor, pulling Jacob’s jacket tighter around me as I lowered myself to the ground
and snuggled into the great white dog. He made a rumbling protest, but when he
cracked one red eye open and saw me, he huffed, making a cloud of dust erupt
before he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. I smirked before laying my
head on his side. Leaving him behind would be hard, and the thought made me
catch my breath. I closed my eyes tight, trying not to think about that. It
didn’t do to dwell on things I couldn’t change because it would only bring me
closer to joining the Hunt and keeping me in the Outlands.

I opened my eyes
again and saw Jacob’s outline through the low campfire. If Jodi and Steven
worked quickly, they would summon me before we found the edge, and I would
abandon Jacob in our quest. A painful stitch blossomed in my chest, but I
reminded myself that not leaving someone behind had gotten me here in the first
place. I closed my eyes against that ugly thought and begged sleep to pull me
under so I could quiet my mind, even if only for a short while.

***

Jacob and I rode
mostly in silence after we broke camp and saddled the horses. I blamed poor
sleep, making my excuses for being quiet and possibly rude. Jacob couldn’t have
been more understanding, which just made me feel worse for keeping Jodi and
Steven’s plans a secret from him. I couldn’t get Steven and Jodi to summon both
of us, so if I told him I might be sucked out of this universe at any minute,
totally and completely abandoning him on our quest, what good would that do?
While I waited for my own rescue, I could continue to help Jacob reach the edge
of the Outlands. If we reached it before Jodi and Steven invoked me, maybe I
could help Jacob escape. It was worth trying, at the very least.

Besides, what
else was I going to do while I waited? Sit in a tree, trying to avoid the cat
monsters, carnivorous birds, and whatever other nightmares lived in this world?
Searching for the edge passed the time and gave Jacob a purpose. But as Balor
loped alongside me, occasionally turning his silly dog grin up to me with his
red tongue lolling out, part of me didn’t want to be rescued. The idea of
leaving my new friends behind in this unchanging, unforgiving world made me feel
lower than scum.

We didn’t ride
nearly as long as we usually did that night, day, whatever it was. Jacob slowed
Angus to a trot, letting Fearghus catch up so that we could talk as the horses
walked side by side.

“You know, I
didn’t sleep well either. Mind if we break early?” Jacob asked.

“No,” I said,
shaking my head, “not at all. This is as good a place as any.”

We had come down
out of the trees and continued following the river again when the cat monsters
didn’t make another appearance. We both carried our weapons though, ready for
an attack. I was so glad Fearghus seemed more cognizant than horses from my
reality because managing the reins in one hand and the small crossbow in the
other wasn’t easy, but Fearghus didn’t need much guiding. Since he seemed to
understand me when I talked, I really just had to tell him where I wanted him
to go instead of yanking and pulling on the reins. The reins just gave me
something to hold on to and some illusion of safety from falling.

Jacob dismounted
and started clearing an area for us to build a fire and sleep while I turned
Fearghus into the trees to do a circuit of the area around us, looking for any
threats. By the time I made it back to Jacob, as confident as I could be that
this was a safe enough place to rest, he already had the wood and stones
assembled for the fire.

 
“’Fraid all we have for supper is some of
those root vegetables, and not much of those left since we’ve been sharing with
the animals,” Jacob said when he sat up from the fire, clapping his hands to
dust them off.

Balor whined
next to me, turning his head in my direction, his eyebrows almost as high as
his pointy ears. I smiled down at him before I swung my leg over and jumped
down from the saddle. I stumbled momentarily, taking a few steps to right
myself. Sometimes I forgot just how tall Fearghus was after riding him for
hours.

“Don’t mind him,
Balor,” I said, scratching the top of his head between his ears. “I don’t
begrudge sharing with you.” Balor leaned into my hand, his red eyes drifting
closed for a moment before he turned his head in Jacob’s direction and huffed.

“I keep
forgetting the damn thing can understand me,” Jacob muttered, making Balor
growl low in his throat.

“The ‘damn
thing’s’ name is Balor,” I said, earning a quick lick on my hand from the dog.

“Right.” Jacob had
the decency to look slightly abashed. “Sorry,” he added, nodding to Balor. I
almost expected Balor to respond, but instead he turned his back on Jacob,
flicking his white tail in the air before he bounded off into the trees.

“Good job,” I
said, but my voice didn’t hold much anger. Having animals that understood us
was a little weird.

“I really didn’t
mean anything,” Jacob said, staring off in the direction Balor had disappeared.

“I’m sure it’s
fine,” I said. “He’s probably just hunting or something. He doesn’t get to do
that much since he’s riding with us.”

I grabbed the
two cups we used for drinking and went to the river to fill them. I figured we
could make a thin soup out of the remaining vegetables and hoped the water
would help fill our bellies. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of
minutes before Balor bounded back through the woods, bursting upon us with two
small, dead animals hanging limp in his mouth. He skidded to a halt at my feet
and spit them out in front of me, looking up like he’d given me the world’s
greatest present. I held back a grimace and managed to smile down at him,
scratching his snout.

“Good job, Balor!
Thank you.”

“I can take care
of those,” Jacob said as he bent over to scoop up the limp forms. They looked a
lot like rabbits.

“Thanks,” I
muttered, turning away from the sight. If I’d been on my own, I’d like to think
that I could’ve forced myself to clean and butcher animals. But I wasn’t alone;
I didn’t have to do this one unpleasant thing, so I wasn’t going to. If Jacob
wanted to do it, then that was fine by me.

Though Jacob
claimed to be tired, it felt like he took hours to finally settle down. I could
feel the swirled metal handle of the looking glass pressing into my leg. I don’t
know why I hid it. Jacob knew I had it and he knew I was trying to get home,
but something in me kept me from telling him how often I checked the looking
glass, watching what my friends were doing, silently cheering them on.

When I finally
heard the soft rumble of Jacob’s measured breathing over the crackle of the
fire, I knew he was asleep. I pulled the looking glass out fast enough to cut a
line in the dirt with the edge of the black glass. I froze for a second,
terrified I had broken it, but when I wiped the looking glass with the edge of
Jacob’s jacket, I was relieved to see it still intact.

I thought about
moving off to hide, but the fire was so pleasant and Balor curled around me was
comforting, and I didn’t really want to leave either. I glanced at Jacob again,
making a few soft noises to see if he would respond. When he remained still and
his breathing even, I felt comfortable enough to return my attention to the looking
glass.

I held the image
of Jodi and Steven in my mind, hoping to find them with Deb and her coven. When
the black glass became smoky and the vague shapes began to coalesce, my stomach
flipped and my palms became sweaty. Tonight could be the night I finally left
this godforsaken place.

Chapter 14

Steven and Jodi sat
in Jane’s kitchen at the rectangle table that was big enough to sit ten. The
moment I had set foot in Jane’s kitchen, I felt a stab of envy like no other.
The kitchen was large enough not only to have that beautiful piece of dark,
distressed wood, but also an island with a second stovetop and sink and still leave
plenty of room for eleven witches, two teenagers, and one little girl to
convene comfortably.

Jane and Sherry
were between the island and the counter, pulling cookies out of the oven and
arranging them on platters. Like the rest of the witches in the room, they were
dressed in dark, somber clothing, mourning the recent loss of one of their
twelve.

Trisity, Jane’s
little girl, sat on one of the high stools at the island, munching on a small
pile of cookies, warm chocolate smeared on her cheek and crumbs on the bib of
her overalls.

Surprisingly,
Deb wasn’t sitting next to Steven and Jodi; she was at the table, but at the
other end and on the opposite side. Her brow was furrowed and her mouth pinched,
and every once in a while, she glanced at Steven and Jodi. I don’t think I had
ever seen her look so uncomfortable.

“Trisity, one
more and then it’s time for bed,” Jane said as she pulled her oven mitts off,
tossing them on the counter.

“But, mom!”
Trisity whined long and high pitched. “I wanna stay for the vote.”

“No.” Jane’s
voice brooked no arguments. “You are too young, and it’s already past your
bedtime.”

“But,” Trisity
started again.

Jane cut her
off, saying, “One more word, Trisity Leanne, and I won’t let you finish that
cookie. Do you understand me?” I saw the familiar look of confusion on
Trisity’s face. Her mother had warned her from saying one more word but then
asked her a question that she knew she had to answer. Finally she nodded
solemnly, answering without saying a word. She shoved the last half of the
cookie into her mouth as if afraid her mother would snatch it away, making it
very difficult to chew with her mouth closed. Sherry snickered and turned
around quickly, trying to hide it. Jane threw her hands up into the air and
shook her head before she walked around the island to pick Trisity up and carry
her from the kitchen.

She returned a
few minutes later, accepting a cup of tea from her sister. When Deb glanced at
her and confirmed that Trisity was tucked away into bed, Deb nodded briefly and
stood, causing all conversations to die out almost immediately.

“Merry met,
ladies,” Deb said, effectively calling the meeting to order. “Tonight we
gather, rather informally, to discuss a request that has been brought to us by
Jodi and Steven.” Deb nodded in their direction. Steven held his hand up in an
awkward wave with an equally awkward half-smile, but Jodi sat as still as a
statue, her eyes riveted on Deb.

“We are all very
painfully aware about the loss of Shayna.” Deb paused as murmurs filtered
through the gathered women, some nodding, other staring into their cups. “It
seems that Shayna’s spirit may not have gone on to the next life.”

“How do you know
that?” one woman, who’s name I never caught, asked.

“Steven claims
that Shayna was haunting him,” Deb said. Her choice of words made Steven’s head
snap up, his eyebrows climbing his forehead.

“I don’t claim
it,” he said, barely holding his tone in check. “I know it.”

“Of course.” Deb’s
tone made it sound as though she was only placating him. “At any rate, before
Steven knew who or what was haunting him, he banished the entity. Now Steven
and Jodi have come to ask us to help them perform an invocation of the Spirit.
Of Shayna’s spirit.”