Spring Rain (6 page)

There were moments when being the Master of
Light was really boring. Beck prepared himself for a day spent
catching up with the school’s administrative tasks and sifting
through his emails to determine what else he had missed in his
exile.

“Let me check out Miner’s Drop first and
I’ll be back to help out,” he said.

“I’ll be here!”

He didn’t bother going outside to summon his
fog. He was careful about it in front of the students, but Amber
knew what he could do.

Seconds later, he emerged at the bottom of
Miner’s Drop, beneath the cliff that still inspired disturbing
memories whenever he saw it. He shivered in its shadow. He recalled
too well what happened the night Summer jumped, how her broken body
had looked from the top of the cliff and how Decker had almost gone
mad over the course of a single night.

There were no good memories of Miner’s Drop
or the field nearby where he had later fought Decker with
magick.

Beck turned away. Unable to sense Dark the
way Decker could, Beck searched the floor of the rocky valley with
his gaze before beginning to walk down its center. He sensed …
something. A stillness of the air, the electrified air present
before it was about to snow or storm even though the sky was
clear.

He paused midway through the valley, unable
to continue. A sheet of solid ice had settled into the lowest
points, and he wasn’t wearing the best boots to navigate it. The
snow remained here whereas it was melting from the forest floor. He
was about to dismiss Amber’s concern when he caught the footprints
in the snow running along one wall of the canyon towards a series
of caves he and Decker used to play in as children.

The imprints were crisp and fresh.

Beck left the path he was on to follow them.
His feet crunched into the snow. More than one set of footsteps
were visible. From the size of the shoe prints and the length of
the strides, he guessed one was a woman and the other a man. They
led along the wall to the first of four small caves.

He steadied himself against the rocky wall
and leaned into the first. It was dark and shallow, and sunlight
reached the back wall.

“One down,” he said, his curiosity growing
about what two witchlings were doing out here in the canyon. It
was, and had been, off-limits to Light witchlings for quite some
time. That the Dark witchlings were traveling forty five minutes to
practice their craft in the forests so near the Light school seemed
… off.

Beck navigated an area of slush and ice to
reach the second cave. He stepped in front of it – and froze.

A familiar, dark, cold, Light sapping chill
washed over him. He stepped back instinctively and peered into the
cave. Sunlight wasn’t able to penetrate its depths, and the
unnatural shifting of shadows alerted him that he had found
whatever the Dark witchlings had been doing.

He texted Decker with one hand, not about to
take his eyes off the Dark.

“A cave what?” Decker’s voice materialized
with his form a moment later.

“I was trying to type Dark cave,” Beck said
with a glance at his phone. He hadn’t bothered to check the message
before he sent it.

Decker approached without hesitation and
stood in the mouth of the cave, looking around it. “It’s not just
here, either,” he observed. “The valley reeks of it.”

“What is it?” Beck asked.

“There’s a Dark ward here, placed by an air
witchling. I’m immune to it but …” Decker motioned to the front of
the cave then stepped into it. He disappeared, swallowed by the
Dark. “Yeah, what I thought. It’s keeping the Dark magick inside
and impossible for me to sense.”

“Bartholomew’s magick. I’d recognize that
taint anywhere.”

“I’d say so.”

“Someone’s collecting Dark magick.”

“One guess as to who.” Decker emerged from
the cave. Black fog clung to him. “How did you find this
place?”

“Amber said some Light witchlings noticed
magick out this way.”

“It’s all over the place. Undetectable until
I’m in the middle of it.” Decker swept his arm around to indicate
the canyon.

“What do you think she’s doing?” Beck had an
idea, but it didn’t seem possible. Or maybe, he wasn’t ready to
admit yet how great the threat was to the Light source and school.
“You don’t think she’d hurt the people she grew up with, do
you?”

“Absolutely.”

I don’t want to believe
it.
Beck said nothing aloud, troubled by
how little he knew the woman who was about to become the mother of
his daughter. “I should be able to do more to prevent things like
this from happening.”

Decker’s Darkness pooled at his feet and in
the space between them, whereas Becks’ Light wasn’t visible. Decker
was considering the fog at his feet. “You’ve always been the good
one. Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Meaning …”

“Meaning … the first thing I learned as a
Dark Master is that I don’t have to follow rules. Maybe you should
try to buck them as well.”

“I’m not going out there and killing
everyone I don’t agree with.”

“I’m not suggesting you do,” Decker replied
icily. “I’m saying, maybe to understand the Light, to protect it,
you have to become more a part of it.”

Beck studied his brother and followed his
gaze. Light had never responded to him the way Dark did to Decker.
Decker had barely recovered from his dive into the Dark and needed
his counterbalance to prevent him from losing control. The Light
was nowhere near as dangerous, yet Beck didn’t think he was ready
to lose himself to something too great for him to control. He
wasn’t even certain the Light could connect with him like the Dark
had defined Decker. Decker and his Dark were intimately
intertwined.

The Light seemed too fragile still, and he
feared losing it as much as he did failure.

I’m not worthy of
partnering with the Light like that.
Beck
thought. “Interesting idea,” he said finally.

“I uh …
heard
… there’s more
than Dawn threatening the Light,” Decker continued with some
discomfort.

“Heard. As in, after you stabbed someone to
death, you learned their secret.” It was a gift each Master shared
with his respective flock – the ability to see the memories and
thoughts of those who died.

“Yeah. Dawn’s managed to stir up a small
rebellion of people who aren’t happy about being cut off from the
Light.”

“Awesome,” Beck said sarcastically. “How
many?”

“A couple dozen. I’m working on tracking
them down, but she’s managed to use Bartholomew’s magick to shield
a lot of them.”

“I didn’t think crazy was contagious.”

“I can’t say as though I blame them
entirely. Not a day goes by when I don’t wish I could be a normal
Light witchling, someone deserving of Summer,” Decker replied.

“You wouldn’t try to destroy me and the
Light though.”

Decker raised his eyebrows. “What part of a
homicidal Master of Dark barely in control on his best day makes
you think I wouldn’t?”

“The part only a Master of Light can see,”
Beck retorted. “The part of you Summer sees.”

“You people are more lost than I am.”

“Whatever, Decker. Summer and I know the
truth, even if you refuse to admit it.”

Decker shrugged. “Ever wished we’d paid more
attention in school? Like in knowing how Tranin trapped Bartholomew
in the soul stone a thousand years ago?”

“Every damn day. I don’t think the problem
is us, though. I’ve been over every history book I could find about
that time period. The records are barely there. Nothing more than
the story we know now, that Tranin trapped Bartholomew with the
soul stone and banished his soul to the Dark where it belonged. Do
the souls buzzing around your head have more information?”

“Not that I can find. Bartholomew is so
strong. I think the knowledge was lost on purpose sometimes.”

Nothing’s easy.
Beck sighed. “You want to take care of this?”
Beck motioned to the cave where the Dark crouched.

“Yep.”

“I’ll let Amber know. I’ve got a day of
admin crap ahead of me.”

“Have fun.” Decker rolled his eyes. “If she
hears of any other pockets like this, have her call me
directly.”

“Will do.” Sensing Decker’s Dark surge, Beck
stepped away and summoned his fog.

He envied Decker’s seamless ability to wield
his Dark power. While the earth worked with him, the Light was
generally aloof, and Beck didn’t know if it was simply the way it
worked or if he was, as usual, doing less than he was supposed
to.

“More paperwork!” Amber said cheerfully the
second he appeared in her office.

There are days …
Beck grimaced. “Hand it over. I’m here the rest
of the day.”

“Oh, I found something you were asking me
about last month.” Amber added. “History books about Tranin and
other Light Masters.” She rifled through her drawer and pulled out
an antiquated book a foot and a half long that smelled musty. “This
one was recorded in the eighteenth century.”

“Hmm.” Beck accepted the behemoth book.
“Might not be early enough.”

“You never know. A lot of knowledge has been
lost over the years. This is a recording of oral traditions the
author recorded to try to preserve them. Maybe there’s something
we’ve forgotten over time.”

“It’s possible.” He sat down at the small
table Amber used to prepare her lesson plans. Beck flipped the
cover of the book open and sneezed. “Where did you get this?”

“In the basement. We have a lot of junk down
there. I was looking for equinox decorations and stumbled across a
few old books.”

The elements wanted it
found.
Coincidences didn’t happen in a
world where magick interwove with everyone and everything. Beck’s
attention went from the book to the administrative tasks Amber
needed. With some reluctance, he decided to tackle her tasks first
before hauling the large book home to read.

“Can, um, Red make my drink?”

Morgan looked up from where she was washing
her hands at the end of her shift. The request came from a
college-aged girl, one of her usual customers, though she was about
two hours late today.

Rosy twisted to face her and cocked one
eyebrow up in a silent question. The barista at the bar was already
stepping aside, accustomed to moving whenever one of Morgan’s
regulars came in.

“Sure,” Morgan said half-heartedly. She was
ready to go home after a day of espresso and Stu flirting with her,
but she understood the importance of keeping the customers happy.
She returned to the station and made two drinks quickly.

“She tipped us a five,” Rosy whispered
between patrons. “You should start keeping your tips, Red. They’ll
pay for your college.”

“Nah. It’s okay,” Morgan replied. “You guys
split it.” It wasn’t because she didn’t need the money – she
probably would eventually – but because she wanted to keep her
coworkers as happy as the customers. Happiness bred loyalty of
sorts or at least, they’d hopefully alert her if someone came
snooping around looking for her like several days ago. She had
learned a thing or two about being cautious from reading articles
online. Being social wasn’t really her thing, so sharing tips made
up for her lack of interest in those around her.

“Thanks, Red!” Rosy called as Morgan tossed
her apron into a laundry bin beneath the counter. “See you
tomorrow!”

Morgan waved and left, stepping into the
cool night. The lights of The Strip reached the suburbs, and the
sky above Vegas glowed. She’d gotten her wish of a winter without
snow. A native of northern New York, she was accustomed to the cold
and snow but had never cared for it, less so after going to the
unwelcoming boarding school in northern Idaho.

On nights like this, when she felt lonely,
she had the urge to call her brother and tell him she was alive and
well. She had heard that Connor, a water witchling, had turned
Light. Without the soul stone and with the support of the Light
witchling community, he would have a better chance at life than her
parents had. She was proud of him and aware when he found out about
her, he was going to flip out.

She smiled mischievously, unable to help her
satisfaction at knowing how shocked her sibling would be.
Competitive and equally hot-headed, Connor and she sparred over
everything when they had the chance.

I miss them both.

How she missed Beck, someone she didn’t know
for very long, as much as Connor baffled her. She didn’t know what
Beck would do if he found out she was alive. Flip out? Beat her
like her uncle might or scream at her the way her father did? She
didn’t know enough male witchlings to know what was normal for
them. Although …

Beck was sweet and gentle and had always
treated her like she was precious. He hadn’t resembled any of the
men in her family. She allowed her mind to wander wistfully back to
the night he’d taken her somewhere he never took anyone, even Dawn:
to meet his extended family. She’d dared him to make a choice about
whether or not he was interested in her. He’d done so and then
upped the ante and challenged her to.

I chose you,
Beck
. Not that it mattered. She’d managed
to ruin things as usual, and even the best man in the world hadn’t
been able to make things right.

The happy memory faded, and she trudged
home. Her evening routine was always the same: dinner, an hour of
television, a hot shower and then to bed.

This night, Morgan sat and gazed at her
surroundings. She intended to leave tomorrow and was finding it
hard to want to walk away from the apartment that was hers. It had
been nice to have her own little home for once.