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Destined
  • Текст добавлен: 24 сентября 2016, 03:59

Текст книги "Destined"


Автор книги: P. C. Cast


Соавторы: Kristin Cast,P. C. Cast
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

As if in answer, my gaze was drawn to the bizarre creature. He had horns and hoofs, but his face was guy-like. His eyes were glowing. He’d been trying to grab a Raven Mocker out of the sky, but when he failed, he turned his attention to Rephaim, lowered his head, and charged.

“Rephaim! Watch out!” Stevie Rae yelled and sprinted toward him. She flung out her arms and I could hear her asking earth to come to her.

“Spirit!” I called, trying to keep up with her. “Strengthen Stevie Rae!” I felt the element respond as it swirled past me into Stevie Rae, along with her own element, earth. Like she was throwing a big ball, she heaved, and a glowing green wall cascaded like reverse waterfall from the earth upward, blocking Rephaim from the charging creature.

The creature hit the green wall and bounced, falling onto his back. Stevie Rae, strong and straight and proud, stood next to Rephaim. She took his hand. She raised her other hand, and when the creature tried to get up she made a smacking motion and said, “No! Stay down.” A wave of glowing green washed against him, pinning him to the ground.

“Enough!” Neferet said, marching over to the creature. “Aurox is not the enemy here. Free him immediately.”

“Not if he’s gonna charge Rephaim,” Stevie Rae said. She turned to Dragon and asked, “Was Rephaim in league with the Raven Mockers?”

Without even a glance at Rephaim, Dragon said, “He was talking with them, but he did not attack with them.”

They did not attack!” Rephaim said. “They were here to see me—nothing more. You attacked them!”

Dragon finally looked at Rephaim. “Raven Mockers are our enemies.”

“They’re my brothers.” Rephaim’s voice sounded incredibly sad.

“You’re going to have to decide whose side you’re on,” Dragon said solemnly.

“I have already done that.”

“And that is something the Goddess seems to believe as well,” Neferet said. “Aurox,” she spoke to the creature who was still lying on his back, encased in the power of the earth, “the battle is over. There is no need to protect or attack.” She turned her emerald gaze to Stevie Rae. “Now, release him.”

“Thank you, earth,” Stevie Rae said. “You can go now.” With a wave of her hand the green glow evaporated allowing the creature to stand.

Except a creature wasn’t what was left standing. A boy stood there—a beautiful, blond boy who had eyes like moonstones and a face like an angel.

“Who’s that? And what the hell’s going on with all that blood?” Stark’s voice, suddenly beside me, made me jump.

“Oh, for shit’s sake. It’s a dead Raven Mocker,” Aphrodite said as she and Darius and what seemed like most of the school crowded around us.

“And it’s a very pretty human kid,” Kramisha said, giving him a look.

“He’s not human,” I said, holding onto my seer stone.

“What is he?” Stark asked.

“Old magick,” I said as the puzzle pieces in my mind fitted together.

“This time you are correct, Zoey.” Neferet stepped up beside the guy and with a flourish announced, “House of Night, this is Aurox—the gift Nyx gave me proving her forgiveness!”

Aurox stepped forward. His strange-colored eyes met mine. Facing the crowd, but looking only at me, he fisted his hand over his heart and bowed.

“No damn way is he a gift from Nyx,” Stevie Rae muttered.

For once agreeing with Stevie Rae, Aphrodite snorted.

All I could do was stare. All I could feel was the heat from the seer stone.

“Zoey, what is it?” Stark said softly.

I didn’t answer Stark. Instead I forced my gaze from Aurox and faced Neferet. “Where did he really come from?” My voice was hard and strong, but I felt like my stomach was trying to turn inside out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the buzz and whispers of the kids around me, and I knew forcing a confrontation with Neferet here and now wasn’t smart. But I couldn’t stop myself. Neferet was lying about this Aurox thing, and for some reason that was all that mattered to me.

“I already told you where he came from. And, Zoey, I must say this is exactly why you need to be back in school, attending class and refocusing on studying. I do believe you have lost the ability to listen.”

“You said he’s old magick.” I ignored her passive-aggressive crap. “The only old magick I know of is on the Isle of Skye.” And that, I told myself, was what I’d seen the night before when I’d looked through the stone at Stark—the old magick of the Guardian Warriors that still clung to him from the Isle of Skye. Mind whirring, but still confronting Neferet I continued, “Are you telling me he came from the Isle of Skye?”

“Silly child, old magick isn’t restricted to an island. You know, you might think twice about believing everything you hear, especially when it’s coming from a vampyre who calls herself Queen and hasn’t left an island in centuries.”

“And you still haven’t answered my question. Where did he come from?!”

“What magick could be older than that which comes from the Goddess herself? Aurox is my gift from Nyx!” Neferet looked knowingly at the crowd and laughed off my questioning as if I was nothing more than an irritating child and they were all in on the adult joke with her.

“What was he changing into?” I couldn’t stop myself, even though I knew I was coming off as totally snotty and bitchy, like I was one of those girls who always has one more thing to say—and that one more thing was always negative.

Neferet’s smile was magnanimous. “Aurox was changing into the Guardian of the House of Night. You didn’t think you were the only one who was worthy of a Guardian, did you?” She spread her arms wide. “We all are! Come, greet him, and then let us get back to class and to that on which the House of Night was founded, the business of learning.”

I wanted to scream that he was no Guardian! I wanted to scream that I was sick of Neferet twisting my words. I couldn’t stop staring at Aurox as the fledglings (mostly girls) began approaching him, careful to step around the disgusting blood and Raven Mocker remains.

Actually, I didn’t know why, but I just wanted to scream.

“You won’t win this one,” Aphrodite said. “She’s got the crowd and the pretty boy on her side.”

“That’s not what he is.” Still clutching my burning seer stone I turned away from the ridiculous scene and started walking back to school. I could feel Stark looking at me, but I kept my eyes straight ahead.

“Z, what is your problem? So he’s not just a pretty guy. That’s so awful?” Aphrodite said.

I stopped and turned to face them. They were all there, trailing along after me like baby ducks: Stark, Aphrodite, Darius, the Twins, Damien, Stevie Rae, and even Rephaim. It was to Rephaim I addressed my question, “You saw it, too, didn’t you?”

He nodded soberly. “If you mean his change, yes.”

“Saw what?” Stark asked, sounding exasperated.

“He was turning into a bull,” Stevie Rae said. “I saw it, too.”

“That pretty white boy was turnin’ hisself into a bull? That ain’t right,” Kramisha said, peeking back at the crowd we’d left behind.

“White boy—white bull,” Stevie Rae said. Then, sounding a lot like me she added, “Ah, hell.

CHAPTER SIX

Erik

He’d been walking slowly back to the drama room, wishing hard that instead of entering a class he was going to be making a grand entrance to a movie set in L.A., New Zealand, Canada … Hell! Anywhere but Tulsa, Oklahoma! He’d also been wondering how he’d gone from the hottest fledgling on campus and the next Brad Pitt according to the top vampyre casting agent in L.A., to a Drama Professor and a vampyre Tracker.

“Zoey,” Erik mumbled to himself. “My shit started to go downhill the day I met her.”

Then he felt crappy about saying that, even if there was no one around to hear him. He really was okay with Z. They were kinda even friends. What he wasn’t okay with was all the crazy stuff that went on around her. She’s a damn freak magnet, he thought to himself. No wondered they’d broken up. Erik was no freak.

He rubbed the palm of his right hand.

Several fledglings rushed past him and he reached out and snagged one kid by the scruff of his plaid school jacket. “Hey, what’s the rush and why aren’t you in class?” Erik scowled fiercely at the kid, more because he was pissed that he sounded like one of those teachers, the get-back-to-class-young-man kind, than that he actually cared where the fledgling was going.

Annoying Erik even more, the kid cringed and looked like he was going to piss his pants.

“Somethin’s going on. Some fight or somethin’.”

“Go on.” Erik let go of him with a little push and the kid scampered off.

Erik didn’t even consider following him. He knew what he’d find. Zoey in the middle of a mess. She had plenty of people to help get her out of her mess. She wasn’t his damn responsibility, just like ridding the whole damn world of Darkness wasn’t his damn responsibility.

It was as he reached for the doorknob of his classroom that his right palm began to burn. Erik shook it. Then he stopped and stared.

The spiral labyrinth-like mark had become raised, like a fresh brand.

Then the compulsion hit him. Hard.

Erik gasped, turned, and started jogging toward the student parking lot and his red Mustang. As the urge increased to a level that was feverish, he couldn’t stay quiet and thoughts burst from him in jagged pieces of sentences.

“Broken Arrow. Twenty-eight-oh-one South Juniper Avenue. Walking. In thirty-five minutes. Gotta get there. Gotta be there. Shaylin Ruede. Shaylin Ruede. Shaylin Ruede. Go go go go go…”

Erik knew what was happening to him. He’d been prepared. The House of Night’s last Tracker, who called himself Charon, had told him exactly what to expect. When it was time for him to Mark a fledgling his palm would burn; he would know a place, a time, and a name; he would have an uncontrollable compulsion to go there.

Erik had thought he’d been ready, but he hadn’t realized the depth of the yearning that would come over him—the singular power of the focus that pounded through him in time with the pulse beat he felt hot and urgent in his palm.

Shaylin Ruede would be the first fledgling he would ever Mark.

It took him thirty minutes to get from midtown Tulsa to the little condo complex tucked within the quiet suburb of Broken Arrow. Erik pulled into a visitor’s spot in the parking lot. His hands were shaking as he got out of his Mustang. The compulsion pulled him to the sidewalk that ran in front of the complex, parallel to the street. The condo complex had soft white lights that looked like giant opaque fishbowls resting on wrought iron poles, so pools of cream illumination were thrown on the sidewalk. Mature cedars and oaks lined the street side of the walkway. Erik glanced at his watch. It was 3:45 A.M. A weird time and place to Mark a kid. But Charon had told him the Tracker compulsion would never be wrong—that all he had to do was to follow it, to let his instincts lead him, and he’d be fine. Still, there was absolutely no one around and Erik was starting to panic when he heard a small tap-tap-tap-tap. In front of him a girl turned the corner from inside the complex and came into view. She moved slowly down the sidewalk, coming toward him. Each time she walked through the bubbles of light, Erik studied her. She was small—a petite girl with lots of dark brown hair. So much hair, in fact, that he was actually distracted for a moment by how thick and shiny it was and he didn’t notice anything else about her—until the tapping sound broke into his consciousness. She was holding a long white cane that she kept continually sweeping in front of her, tap-tap-tapping, so that it was by sound and touch that she navigated her way. Every few feet she stopped and gave a terrible, wet cough.

Erik knew two things at once. First, this was Shaylin Ruede, the teenager he was meant to Mark. Second, she was blind.

He would have stopped himself if he could have, but no mortal power and, according to Charon, no magickal power, either, could take Erik from this kid until after he’d Marked her. When the girl was just a few feet in front of him he raised his hand, palm out, and pointed at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Hi? Who is it? Who is there?”

“Erik Night,” he blurted. Then he shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, that’s not right.”

“You’re not Erik Night?”

“Yes. I mean no. Wait, that’s not right, either. This isn’t what I’m supposed to be saying.” His hands were shaking and he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Are you okay? You don’t sound so good.” She coughed. “Do you have the same flu I have? I’ve felt awful all day.”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just that I have to say something else to you, and it’s not supposed to be my name or anything like that. Oh, man. I’m really messing this up. I never screw up lines. This is all wrong.”

“Are you practicing for a play?”

“No. And you don’t even know how ironic that question is,” he said, rubbing his sweaty face and feeling confused.

She cocked her head to the side and frowned. “You aren’t going to mug me, are you? I know it’s late and all, and I’m blind and not supposed to be out here by myself. But it’s the easiest time of day for me to go on a walk alone. I don’t get much alone time.”

“I’m not going to mug you,” he said miserably. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then what are you doing out here, and what have you messed up?”

“This is so not going the way it’s supposed to!”

“And kidnapping me won’t do you any good. I’m living here with my foster mom. She doesn’t have any money at all. Actually, since I’ve been working after school at the South BA Library down the street, I have more money than her. Uh, not that I have any of it with me at this second.”

“Kidnap you? No!” Then Erik doubled over, holding on to his gut. “Crap! Charon didn’t tell me it’d hurt if I didn’t do it.”

“Charon? Are you in a gang? Am I supposed to be an initiation sacrifice?”

“No!”

“Good, ’cause that would really suck.” She smiled in his general direction, and then started to turn back the way she’d come. “Okay, well, then. If that’s all. It was nice to meet you, Erik Night. Or at least I think that’s your name.”

With a huge effort, Erik straightened up enough to lift his hand again, palm out. “This is what I’m supposed to be doing.” In a voice that was suddenly filled with magick and mystery and purpose, Erik Night intoned the ancient Tracker words, “Shaylin Ruede! Night has Chosen thee! Thy death will be thy birth! Night calls to thee; harken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night!”

All of the heat that had been building in his gut, making him feel sick and confused and too hot shot out of his palm. He could actually see it! It smacked right into Shaylin’s forehead. She made a small, surprised, “Oh!” sound and dropped gracefully to the ground.

Okay, he knew he was supposed to be very vampyre-like and melt into the shadows and return to the House of Night, letting the fledgling find her own way there. Charon told him that’s how it was done. Or at least that’s how it was done in the modern world.

Erik thought about melting into the shadows. He even started to back away, and then Shaylin lifted her head. She’d fallen in the middle of a splotch of light, so her face was illuminated. She looked absolutely perfect! Her full pink lips tilted up in a surprised smile and she was blinking as if to clear her vision. If she hadn’t been blind he would have sworn she was staring at him with those huge black eyes. Her pale skin was flawless, and in the middle of her forehead her new Mark seemed to glow a bright, beautiful scarlet.

Scarlet?

The color jolted through him and he started to move to her saying, “Wait, no. That’s not right.” At the same time Shaylin said, “Ohmygod! I can see!”

Erik hurried over to her and then stood helplessly, not sure what to do, as she collected herself and got to her feet. She was a little wobbly, but she was blinking and staring all around them, a huge smile filling her pretty face.

“I can really see! Ohmygod! This is incredible!”

“This isn’t right. I’ve so messed this up.”

“I don’t care if you messed up or not—thank you so much! I can see!” she shouted and threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time.

Erik kinda patted her back. She smelled sweet, like strawberries or maybe peaches—or some kind of fruit. And she felt really soft.

“Oh, god! Sorry.” She suddenly released him and took a step back. Her cheeks were pink and she wiped her eyes. Then those wet, dark eyes widened at something over his shoulder and he spun around, hands up and ready to knock the crap out of someone. “Oh, no. Sorry again.” Her fingers rested on his arm for just a second as she took a slow step past him. He looked down at her to see that she was gawking at a big, old oak. “It’s so beautiful!” With steps that were becoming surer with each stride, she walked to the tree and pressed her hand against it. Staring up into the branches, she said, “I had images in my mind. Things I remember from before I lost my sight, but this is so, so much better.” She wiped her eyes again and then her bright eyes came back to him, and they widened even more. “Oh, wow!”

In spite of the weirdness of everything, Erik couldn’t help smiling back at her with his hundred-watt movie star grin. “Yeah, before I was zapped into being a Tracker I was on the road to Hollywood.”

“No, I’m not wowing about how hot you are, even though you are hot. I suppose,” she said quickly, still staring at him.

“I am,” he assured her, reminding himself that she was probably in some kind of shock.

“Yeah, well, what I mean is that I can really see you.”

“Yeah, and?” Goddess, Shaylin Ruede, Marked or unMarked, was one strange girl.

“I lost my sight when I was a just a kid, right before my fifth birthday, but I seriously don’t remember being able to see the insides of people. And I think if that was common I’d at least have heard about it on the Internet.”

“How can you use the Internet if you’re blind?”

“Really? Are you really asking that? Like you don’t know about stuff for disabled people?”

“How could I? I’m not disabled,” Erik said.

“Again, really? That’s not what the inside of you says.”

“Shaylin, what the hell are you talking about?” Was she a crazy kid? Had his messing up the Tracker stuff made her not just a red fledgling, but a crazy red fledgling? Crap! He was in so much trouble!

“How do you know my name?”

“All Trackers know the name of the fledglings they’re sent to Mark.”

Shaylin touched her forehead. “Oh, wow! That’s right! I’m going to be a vampyre!”

“Well, if you live. Actually, I’m not sure what’s going on. You have a red Mark.”

“Red? I thought fledglings have blue Marks and, eventually, blue tattoos. You do.” She pointed at his tattoo, which framed his Clark Kent blue eyes like a mask.

“Yeah, well, you should have a blue tattoo. But you don’t. It’s red. And could we go back to the stuff you were saying about seeing inside me?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, it’s amazing. I can see you, and then I can also see all kinds of colors surrounding you. It’s like what’s inside you is glowing around you.” She shook her head, as if in wonder, staring even harder at him. Then she blinked, frowned, and blinked again. “Huh. That’s interesting.”

“Colors? That doesn’t make any sense.” He realized she was clamping her lips together, as if she didn’t want to say any more, which for some reason really annoyed him, so he asked, “What colors are around me?”

“Lots of pea green all mixed with something watery. It reminds me of the mushy peas some places try to give you when you order fish and chips, not that that makes any sense whatsoever.”

Erik shook his head. “None of this makes any sense. Why the hell do I have mushy pea color around me?”

“Oh, that’s the easy part. When I focus on it I can see what it means about you.” She closed her mouth then and shrugged. “Plus you have some little bright specks that show up once in a while, but I can’t tell what color they are and only a little of what they mean. Sounds crazy, right?”

“What does the pea green and the watery stuff say about me?”

“What do you think it says?”

“Why are you answering my question with a question?”

“Hey, you just answered my question with a question,” Shaylin said.

“I asked you first.”

“Does that really matter?” Shaylin asked.

“Yes,” he said, trying to keep a handle on his temper, even though she was annoying the living crap out of him. “What does the pea color mean?”

“Fine. It means you’ve never had to work very hard at getting what you want.”

He scowled at her.

She shrugged. “You’re the one who asked.”

“You don’t know shit about me.”

Shaylin suddenly looked pissed. “Oh, please! I don’t know why, but I do know I know what I’m seeing.”

“Hey, it’s not like I have to be dripping in mushy peas for you to figure out this smile has taken me places,” Erik said sarcastically.

“Yeah, well, explain to me why I also know the gray, foggy-looking stuff means something has made you sad.” She put her hands on her hips, squinted her eyes, stared at him. Hard. Then she nodded, like she was agreeing with herself. Looking smug she added, “I think someone close to you just died.”

Erik felt like she’d smacked him in the face. He couldn’t say anything. He just looked away from her and tried to think through a wave of sadness.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

He looked down to see that she’d hurried up to him and put her hand back on his arm. She didn’t look smug anymore.

“That was really wrong of me,” she said.

“No,” he said. “You weren’t wrong. A friend of mine did just die.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I was wrong to have said it like that—all mean-girl. That’s not who I am. That’s not how I am. So, I’m sorry.”

Erik sighed. “I’m sorry, too. None of this happened like it was supposed to.”

Shaylin touched her forehead gingerly. “You’ve never Marked someone with red?”

“I’ve never Marked anyone beside you,” he admitted.

“Oh, wow. I’m your first?”

“Yeah, and I messed it up.”

She smiled. “If me being able to see is a mess-up, I’m all for it.”

“Well, I’m glad you can see, but I still need to figure out how that happened.” He gestured at her red Mark. “And this.” Erik waved his hand around him. “The pea stuff.”

“The pea stuff came from you, but there’s other colors there, too. Like when you said sorry I could see—”

“No!” he held up a hand, cutting her off. “I don’t think I want to know what else you can see.”

“Sorry,” she said softly, looking down and scuffing the toe of one shoe through the winter-brown grass. “I guess it is really weird. So, what happens next?”

Erik sighed again. “Don’t be sorry, and there’s nothing wrong with weird. I’m sure Nyx has a reason for giving you this gift, and this red Mark.”

“Nyx?”

“Nyx is our Goddess. The Goddess of Night. She’s awesome, and sometimes she gives her fledglings cool gifts.” As he spoke Erik felt like a total ass. He had to be the crappiest Tracker in House of Night history. He’d turned a blind kid into a red fledgling who could see inside stuff, and he was just now telling her about their Goddess. “Come on.” He didn’t care if Charon would approve or not—he wasn’t following the damn script anyway. He might as well go for broke and screw everything up. “Show me where you used to live. Pack a bag or whatever. You’re going to come with me.”

“Oh, yeah. To the House of Night in Tulsa, right?”

“Actually, no. First I’m going to take you to a red fledgling High Priestess. Maybe she can figure out what I did wrong.”

“Hey, she’s not gonna try to ‘fix’ me by making me blind again, is she?”

“Shaylin, as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think it’s you who needs to be fixed. It’s me.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zoey

“Zoey, did you hear me?”

I realized that while I’d been maniacally brushing Persephone, Lenobia had come into the stall and had been talking at me. Well, I mean I realized she’d been saying words. Out loud. To me. But I hadn’t really heard them. I sighed and turned to face the Horse Mistress, leaning against the mare’s warm, sturdy side and trying to draw calmness and energy from her familiar presence. “Sorry, no. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m super distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was asking what you know about this Aurox boy.”

“Nothing except that I can promise you he’s not just a boy,” I said.

“Yes, word’s already spread around campus that he’s a shape-shifter.”

I felt my eyes get really big. “Seriously? There are such things? Like Sam and his crazy white trash mom and brother?”

“Sam?”

“True Blood,” I explained. “They’re shape-shifters. They can change into anything they’ve seen. I think. Although I don’t think they can change into inanimate stuff. Jeesh, I need to read those books to get the real deal. Anyway, again, there are such things?”

“A, I don’t watch TV. I never got into the habit. I’ll have to read the True Blood books, too.”

“Actually, they’re the Sookie Stackhouse books by a cool human author named Charlaine Harris.” I registered Lenobia’s look and hastily added, “Sorry, sorry, that’s really not your point. What’s your B?”

“My B is back to your original question, there are a lot of things out there—in this world as well as the Otherworld.”

I swallowed hard. “I know that. Especially the Otherworld part.”

“That said, many cultures have evidence of shape-shifters in their legends and mythology. It only stands to reason that at least some of those stories are based on truth.”

“I can’t figure out whether that’s good or bad,” I said.

“I think the best we can hope for is that it’s like the rest of us—good or bad based on the individual. Which leads me to my next question. Along with campus gossip about Aurox and his ability to at least appear to be able to change form, word has it that you had a pretty strong reaction to him. Is that true?”

I felt my cheeks getting hot. “Sadly, yes. I made a fool out of myself in front of most of the school. Again.”

“Why? When you know better then anyone how dangerously manipulative Neferet can be, why would you confront her publicly like that?”

“Because I’m a moron,” I said miserably.

“No.” She smiled kindly. “You’re definitely not a moron, which is why I wanted to talk with you about this—alone. I think you should play down your reaction to Aurox, maybe even to your closest friends. Keep what you’re feeling to yourself. Put on your poker face.”

“Poker face? Sorry, I only know how to play Candyland.”

“It means to keep your reaction to what you’re seeing and how you feel about it secret from everyone watching you.”

“Why?” She really had my attention now. It wasn’t like Lenobia (or any sane vampyre) to ask a fledgling to keep secrets.

Her eyes met mine and I was struck anew by their unusual gray color. It was almost like she’d harnessed storm clouds within them.

“I learned young that evil sometimes likes to be bragged about, even when it would be best if it kept a low profile. It has been my experience that Darkness’s true struggle isn’t against Light and the strength of love and truth and loyalty. I think evil’s greatest threat comes from its own pride and arrogance and greed. I’ve yet to see a bully who doesn’t gloat, or a thief who doesn’t brag. That’s why they get caught. Darkness could get a lot more of its destructive work accomplished if it was more, shall we say, circumspect.

“But it’s in Darkness’s nature to brag and gloat, so Darkness understands it when someone calls attention to its actions and stuff,” I said, finally getting her point. “Which means when someone who is trying to fight for good stays quiet, and watches and waits for the right time to act, evil is thrown a curve ball.”

“And caught unaware by the strength that comes from honesty and serenity and quiet determination,” Lenobia said.

I drew a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one was lurking outside Persephone’s stall, and then spoke softly to Lenobia. “From the second I saw Aurox my seer stone got hot. The only two other times that’s happened has been when old magick has been present.” I hesitated, then admitted, “Last night I looked through the seer stone and saw something weird around Stark. It kinda freaked me out.”

“What did Stark say about it?”

“I, uh, haven’t told him.”

“You haven’t? Why not?”

“Well, first because I got distracted by him.” I hurried on, knowing that I was probably blushing. “And since then I don’t know why I haven’t said anything.” I thought about the almost-fight we’d had on the way to school. “No, wait, I do know why. Ever since the whole Otherworld thing things haven’t been the same between Stark and me. Some of that’s good—we’re really close most of the time. But some of it’s weird, too.”

Lenobia nodded. “That’s understandable. An experience the magnitude of what the two of you went through should change the dynamics of a relationship. And glimpsing some old magick attached to Stark could simply be a remnant of his time in the Otherworld.” She smiled. “I imagine if you could look through the seer stone at yourself you might see—”

“Oh, hell no! I don’t want to see anything hanging around me!”

Lenobia’s smile faded. “You sound frightened.”

“I’m freaked, that’s for sure. I think I’ve had enough of old magick and the Otherworld and all that goes with that stuff for a good long while.”

“Ah, I understand. If Aurox carries traces of old magick, that’s why his presence affected you so much.”

“He definitely made me feel funny, even before I saw him change into a bull.”

“Funny? Like you were frightened then, too?”

“Yeah, but I also had a weird surprised feeling, like my intuition was seeing something that my mind couldn’t handle. And then I got super anxious. There’s something wrong about that guy, Lenobia, and that something is real, real old.”

“But do you see that he looks like a handsome teenager to the rest of the world?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Then I snorted. “I’d like to take him to Skye and find out what that part of the ‘rest of the world’ sees when they look at him.”

“Your seer stone came from Skye?”

“Yeah, the Queen gave it to me. She said if old magick is around when I look through it, I can see it.” I thought about Stark and shadows and creepiness. “Dealing with what I can see with my own eyes is way more than enough for me. I don’t want to look through the seer stone again.” I shook my head, ashamed of my weakness. “I’m sorry. I’m such a big baby. I shouldn’t be so darn scared. I should have looked through the stupid stone at Aurox.”


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