"Aurora," my words were unsteady, halting, and I had to force them through my sobs, "I really hoped you were wrong. Didn't you say my body would remain my own?"
"Lucas, I—" Aurora began and faltered, tears appearing in the corners of her eyes. Her face fell as she stooped down to look me in the eyes. "As I said, I did not know you would change. I know it is of little solace at this point, but your body is still under your control even if it is altered. I am deeply sorry."
More tears. More desperate pleas. The living room heaved and lurched around me. The room buzzed with conversation, but my friends' words were muddled and indistinct. The only clarity was in my frustration, which steadily built into a roar in my head.
"Aurora, this bond is wrong. Get it out of me, right now," my voice demanded.
"Lucas, the only way to release the bond is for you to help me and the other guardians cleanse the Thread," Aurora was pleading. She could read surface thoughts, especially the clearest and most prominent ones, and she knew what the next step was going to be.
"I'm putting a stop to this," the words escaped my mouth in a rage. There was a torrent of pain as all my strength was directed inward to pushing on the bond which tethered me to Aurora.
"Lucas, stop! You will only hurt yourself!" Aurora's face was twisted with worry and fear.
"I can't believe you did this insane shit to me," my voice spat as pain blasted across me. It sounded exactly like me, but these were not my words. They were another's words, bursting with sorrow and pain. "I will stop it," my voice halted as a I took a second to take a deep breath, "right the fuck now."
My vision was flooded with a red haze. I could feel something shifting and I realized his plan had just changed. Aurora had felt it too.
"My host, you do not understand. The bond keeps us tethered to each other, but it also maintains a safe distance between us. Do not interfere with that separation," Aurora's words, which were somehow also my words, were slow, careful, and barely holding back terror. She knew what was about to happen. I knew what was about to happen. He was the only one who did not.
Something snapped as he dug into a reserve of power that was entirely separate from Aurora's and began to weave a messy, incoherent spell. The remainder of the excess arcane energy that had been liberated from the river combined with Lucas's to create a staggering flood. For a moment there was an overwhelming sensation of pulling inward, then a bright overwhelming light obliterated my senses. There were a few seconds of pure incomprehensibility before I crystallized into existence and reality finally snapped back into focus.
The bond had fully imploded and I had crawled out of its ashes alone.
I started thrashing and abruptly fell out of bed.
Jumping to my feet, my eyes darted around the room. The faint light coming in through the windows illuminated a figure at the other end of the room. My disorientation overwhelmed me, and I slowly inched towards the stranger. I carefully kept them within my gaze as I advanced, watching for any sudden moves. Heart pounding, I shifted my head and caught a brief glimpse of a blue hoodie.
It was him. All of this was his fault. He should be gone.
He cannot come back.
I drowsily pulled on my magic and was rewarded with a malformed spike of jagged ice. The elegant icicle blade I had effortlessly summoned previously refused to answer my call. My heart pounded. I took a deep breath. Then I sprinted directly across the room with the spike extended. My icicle slammed directly into the center of his chest with a sickening crunch, the tip exploded, and frozen shards launched across the room. I looked up and into his eyes. A strange spiderweb crack split the face that stared back at me.
My face.
A cry of anguish escaped my mouth as a piece of that face fell towards me. Sharp pain radiated from my hand. My eyes darted downward and I saw a gash quickly filling with blood. I hastily dropped the remains of my shattered ice weapon and clamped my left hand over the cut. I breathed heavily for a few seconds and then glanced around the room I found myself in. My senses were still trickling back when I realized where I was: my bedroom. I reached over to my right and flipped on the light switch.
The light revealed the mess I had caused in my stupor. The mirror on the back of my bedroom door was now scattered in pieces across the floor along with flecks of ice.
Trying my best to avoid the sharp pieces of glass, I pulled the door open and headed to the bathroom to rinse and bandage the cut on my hand.
"Laura!" My Dad was suddenly in the doorway to the bathroom. "Are you okay? What was that noise?"
"I, uh, had a nightmare and thought my mirror was a ghost," I mumbled. There was no reason to hide it from him. "I might need a new mirror."
"I'm just glad it wasn't something... else. You weren't around for dinner, and when I went looking for you, I found you were already in bed," he said as his fear was replaced by worry.
"I was exhausted after school," I said as I carefully wrapped some gauze around my hand and secured it with medical tape from the first aid kit in the drawer.
"How did you get that cut?" he said motioning to the cut.
"A piece of the mirror fell on my hand when I shattered it. The wound is not that deep. But I am definitely worried now. Maybe I should wait on getting a new one until I am more settled?" I stammered through my embarrassment. I needed to change the subject. "How was work? I have not seen you since Monday."
"Well, after I took Monday morning off, they made me stay even longer than normal to make it up, which is really unacceptable. At least today they only kept me for my normal working hours."
"You should really start looking for a job somewhere else, Dad," I said, forcing a smile.
He let out a single laugh and said, "You're right, kiddo, but you know how hard it is to find a business that's hiring in Thread Creek."
"It still might be worth looking. I have a job now, too. And I will be increasing my hours as soon as the school year ends. I know your work sometimes pays overtime, but is it really worth it?" I pleaded. I needed my father's help more than ever. It was getting harder and harder for me to be alone.
"They don't pay overtime very often, actually. What brought this on all of a sudden?"
"A lot has happened to me over the last few days. I have been thinking and I am starting to get worried. About more than just this, I mean," I said motioning to myself.
"You mean about magic?"
"Yeah. Did you find the key for that box you dragged out into the living room while I was at school?" I said as a hint of hope crept into my voice.
"Actually, I did!" My father's face brightened. "Do you want to open it now?" My father looked excited. He had clearly been waiting for me so we could open it together.
"Uh, what time is it? This might take a while."
"Four-thirty am."
"Wow, that means I slept more than twelve hours. How about you?"
"I also went to bed early. I was following your lead, I guess. I got, maybe, six hours or so?"
"Should we meet in the living room? After I am done cleaning up, of course," I said, barely containing my excitement.
I finished washing up and nearly skipped down the stairs to the living room. The anticipation and excitement of finally getting to see what was in that box was quickly beating back the nerves from my nightmare and the half-asleep property destruction that came after it.
"Do you want to do the honors?" my father asked as he turned the corner brandishing a bulky key.
"Sure!" Jumping at the chance, I grabbed the key, pushed the button to reveal the keyhole, and slotted it in eagerly. The key turned smoothly, and the hinges stayed perfectly silent as I swung its heavy lid open.
Inside was a tray with several notebooks, a small green parcel, a utility knife, and an assortment of small glass containers with plastic screw tops. I pulled one out containing a fine white powder and saw it was labeled 'gypsum'. Looking closer after replacing the container, I saw that each of them were labeled in clean, crisp handwriting. The tray they were resting in was form-fitted to sit at the top of the box and had a handle in the middle so it could be easily lifted out. I glanced at my father, and he motioned for me to continue.
"So, this whole time you have been guarding a trove of magic items from my witch mother for me to inherit," I mumbled.
"Sounds like something straight out of a fantasy novel when you put it that way," my father said with a chuckle.
"If that is the case, what is the next part of the story? Is there a handsome prince waiting for me at the bottom of the box?"
I gently lifted the tray out and set it aside. Underneath it was a cardboard package that was tightly sealed in a thick plastic film. Bold red text below the plastic read:
BREAK SEAL ONLY IN CASE OF EMERGENCY
"Things are pretty bad right now, but I would not exactly call it an emergency just yet," I said carefully.
"No, let's leave it sealed for now," my father said with a nod.
"Maybe one of these notebooks says what is in it?" I wondered aloud as I lifted the stack of notebooks out of the tray.
I handed one to my father and began flipping through another. All the entries appeared to be written by the same person who labeled the containers. Each of the short paragraphs on the pages began with a date and most of it was formatted like a logbook. The passages were very brief and written in some kind of shorthand or jargon. A few entries were more like the kind of prose you would see in a personal journal. After flipping for a while I found an entry which mentioned shades. The date at the top was from over twenty years ago.
"I counted at least fourteen shades near the Thread Creek juncture when I was looking for an entrance to the accessway. Thankfully, I managed to retreat before they saw me. Despite my preparations, I was not ready to take on so many all at once. Next week I'll have to call in a few favors and clear them out."
Had my mother dealt with the same sort of foes my friends and I had fought against? Had shades always been common at Thread Creek? I suddenly felt like showing this to my father would be a very bad idea. I flipped quickly to another page much earlier in the notebook and returned to trying to decipher the more cryptic entries with little progress.
After flipping through a few more pages of cryptic writing, I gave up and I switched out this notebook for the third and last one. It was more strictly a logbook but focused entirely on the magical energy around and throughout the town itself. There were pages and pages of speculation about arcane energy levels and descriptions of how the magic lingering in specific areas felt. Every few entries there was a sketched map of the town with colored pencil marking the different intensities of magic. In one map an area near the creek had an intensity so high it had been colored red and marked with a giant red 'X'. From that mark the colors dropped rapidly in intensity to cooler colors, but most of the residential area of the town was still at least a yellow. It took quite a distance from the hotspot for the levels to drop to a cool blue. The blue color was labeled "approximately background level" on the map's key.
I had no idea what to do with any of this information right now. To make any progress I would need to start at the beginning of the journal and read the whole thing. And I would probably have to do this a few times to untangle the jargon. Maybe then the maps would make sense? What in the world had my mother been up to all those years ago?
"Any clues as to what is under the seal?" I asked my father.
"Not yet. This notebook seems to be a collection of different rituals, spells or just formulas and the materials needed for each. Maybe a magical manual of some kind? There aren't really enough details for me to follow. It seems more like quick notes your mother wrote while trying to solve some kind of magical engineering problem. Quite a few different spells, for lack of a better word, are mentioned," he said carefully.
"Excited to try your hand at a little witchcraft?" I said with a grin.
"I can't make heads or tails of any of these except maybe the ingredient lists. You'll see what I mean," he gave me a very bewildered look as he handed me the spiral-bound notes.
My father's description was apt, it was indeed some sort of recipe book that also included carefully inscribed circles of a vaguely occult nature. Many of them had intricate lines interconnecting them which formed complex designs that appeared to be just as important as the listed ingredients. Some diagrams were accompanied with a rough sketch that had notes that pointed out specific features of the design.
"I think this might be a spellbook," I whispered in wonder.
After getting a minor headache from staring at one of the more confusing diagrams, I began flipping quickly through the pages looking for something easier to understand. The first one that jumped out at me was labeled "Deflection Ward". Its set of diagrams looked much simpler and the instructions were much shorter and easier to read than the pages of shorthand that preceded it. It was not even written in the same style as the other pages. Maybe my mother had copied it from another source? It read nearly exactly like a cooking recipe, but instead of using an oven or stovetop it focused on constructing a precise series of circles and shapes and burning certain materials where the lines met. Instructions such as "light candles at each vertex of the pentagon" with arrows pointing to each location left little ambiguity as to how to set up the circle. I resolved to try this one the first chance I got. Right now, though, I was way too groggy to mess around with protractors and fire. I used a scrap of paper to mark the page so I could find it again later.
"Well, I found something to try out," I said with a grin.
"Oh?" my father replied.
"It says it is a 'Deflection Ward'. Sounds like something that would be very useful to both have and know how to make," I said as I lowered the track back into the box.
"Wait, what about that one? I don't think you looked inside it yet." my father said as he pointed out the small green parcel from his reclined position on the couch. A hint of a smile teased the corners of his lips.
"I guess I missed it," I said, reaching for the small package. As I picked it up, I could immediately tell there was something different about it. There was an odd heft to it. It sat in my hand like an ordinary box, but in some strange way it felt like I had just picked up a spinning motor. I carefully pulled the lid off and revealed a soft white fabric filler surrounding a worn black velvet bag within. Reaching into the bag, I carefully withdrew a silver necklace with an inlaid sapphire. It seemed to have an unnatural weight and it felt simultaneously cool and warm in my hands.
"Wow, this is gorgeous, but it feels so weird," I said, completely at a loss. "Like somehow it is both hot and cold at the same time, which should not be possible."
"What do you mean?" my father asked. I handed him the necklace and he ran his fingers along the metal around the sapphire. "Just feels like ordinary metal to me." He shrugged and handed it back.
"Maybe it has an enchantment on it?" I carefully examined the inlaid jewel, but no explanations came to me.
"Put it on, I bet it'll look great on you!" my father said with a smile.
As I looked down at the pendant nestled in my palm, I felt a comforting warmth settle over me. I was so glad I had this memento to remember Lucas's—no, my—mother with. I could almost feel her embrace in the energy that radiated from it. After a few moments fiddling with the clasp, it was finally secured around my neck, and I turned to show my father.
"It looks," he began, but his voice faltered. He blinked and then continued, "You look just like your mother, you know?"
"Really?" I wondered. Lucas's memories of his mother were few and fragmented. She had died when he was very young, maybe when he was five. I felt a wave of melancholy leaking from those memories as they flowed easily across me. I pressed her necklace tightly to my chest and felt tears come to my eyes. I pulled in a shuddering breath and then the floodgates opened.
"I miss you mom, so much," I cried. The memories were so faint and somehow still raw. I had never thought about my mom before, or about how she was already gone before I was—is 'born' even the right word? I would never get to meet her.
"I still miss her every single day," my father said, placing a hand gently on my back.
We sat there for a while without speaking.
"You should go back to sleep; you have school in a few hours, Laura," my father said quietly. Then after a moment, "I should as well." He stood up and held out his hand. "I'll lock the safe back up and hide the key in the kitchen junk drawer."
I took his hand and he helped me up from the couch. I tried to smile through my tears as I nodded my thanks. I rubbed my eyes before returning to my bedroom. When I opened the door and turned on the light, the fragments of my shattered mirror glimmered in the carpet. I carefully picked up and threw away the large pieces, then fetched our vacuum cleaner from the closet. After a few minutes of careful vacuuming, I pulled off my blue hoodie, delicately removed the necklace, and I decided I should probably take a shower before school.
During the short shower I was careful to keep my hair dry, and I dried off quickly and reapplied my gauze afterward. I threw on a tee shirt from Lucas's collection and found it was a bit large for me now, but great for sleeping. A few short hours of sleep before school sounded nice, so I crawled into bed and sleep overcame me once more.
-*-
My third day of school was much smoother than the first two days. Both because my peers had grown used to my new appearance and because I was finally starting to get used to my routine. Before leaving this morning, I had made sure to put on one of the nicer looking outfits Sarah had picked out for me. This button-down blouse and camisole combination looked good on me, even if it was not a dress. Picking this outfit did mean I had to leave my mother's necklace at home. The chain would be visible above the camisole, and I did not want such a valuable object, especially considering it was magical, at school it was extremely unlikely to be needed. So, before leaving I locked it back in the safe for the day.
As I took my seat in homeroom, I still was very on edge around the other students, but Mark kept his mouth shut this time and no one else bothered me. I spent the period reviewing history class material with Chris again until the bell dismissed us. Despite the lingering sensation that I did not belong here, I felt oddly calm. At some point during that review session, I had either stopped focusing on how nervous I was, or my jitters had finally passed on their own.
Before heading to my locker, I let Margaret know I was staying for the GSA meeting, but I would need a ride home afterward. Since she had a car, she eagerly offered to do it herself. She was clearly excited to add a new member to the club. That must have been the reason she was blushing so much.
Biology, English, and Trigonometry each flowed over me in in quick succession. It almost felt like I was in a trance, though the detailed notes I took were enough to confirm to me that I had still been paying enough attention to learn the material. Even the math class did not needle me like it usually did. Mr. Eckhart shot me a smile as I left. I was glad that my precious lunch period was still safe from his ramblings. As I walked down the final stretch of the hallway to the cafeteria, Dan came up alongside me.
"Laura," he stated with a grunt. At least he used my correct name even if it was just as a perfunctory greeting.
"Dan," I replied smoothly. I resisted a compulsory urge to nod my head at him. Where had that come from?
"What's that on your hand?"
"It is just a minor cut."
"Getting in line for food?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to hold back a grimace. I was not looking forward to spending even just a few minutes alone with him. Even with other students around he was likely to take another shot at interrogating me.
"That bad, huh?" he asked with a grin. He had read me like a book.
"Just get it over with," I sighed.
"My mom is wondering when our first date is scheduled," Dan said easily. "I wonder who gave her that idea." My face burned.
"Uh, look," I stuttered, "I was—" I cut myself off as I realized I had no idea what to say next. Luckily, I had arrived at front of the line to collect food and I busied myself with scooping an entree and a side onto my tray. This gave me a few moments at least to come up with some sort of excuse.
Dan bumped my shoulder and pressed, "Well?"
"You said I could not talk about mag—" I began before being interrupted by another bump on the shoulder. As I realized that I had been about to say 'magic' with all these other people possibly listening, my face lit up again like a neon sign. Dan's grin only grew wider.
"So, instead of talking about that you told her we were dating?" he chortled.
"No! It was her idea. I even specifically said we were not a thing," I said emphatically. I paid for my food and then continued while Dan paid for his, "I just did not have a better answer to give her. I honestly have no idea how to talk to someone who thinks that no means yes and reads everything I do as evidence that they are correct," I rambled.
"Well, congratulations, you did a terrible job. She's already hearing wedding bells," he said and continued laughing.
We both walked over to the table where Sarah and Chris were already sitting, and I plopped onto a bench seat with a frown splayed across my face.
"What's so funny?" Chris asked Dan warily as his eyes jumped between Dan and me.
"My wonderful mother is 'gently encouraging' me to ask Laura out," Dan said as his laughter finally abated.
"Oh? Laura? Really?" Sarah said, surprised.
"No," I stated flatly. "That is not happening. Dan's mom is just jumping to conclusions."
"That would be a nightmare for our group, honestly," Chris huffed. I was briefly taken aback by his reply, and I tried and failed to analyze his expression.
"Oh, you're definitely right, Chris. It's a terrible idea," Dan said, "But I don't think you're seeing the whole picture." He shot me a glare.
"Dan, are you going to finally voice your worries to the class? I am sick of you only being honest with me when we are alone," I said.
"Oh, so you do want to go out?" Dan said as a broad smirk crept across his face.
"Shut up, idiot," I spat back.
"What the hell are you two even talking about?" Sarah said, confused.
"She isn't who she says she is," Dan said, suspicion oozing from his voice.
"I am Laura. I have never claimed otherwise," I said, crossing my arms in frustration.
"So, you're saying that we won't find Lucas's ghost when we go to the river this Friday?" Dan asked.
"What?" The word fell out of my mouth like a drunk bird. "Where did you even get that idea? Did you lift that from one of Sarah's movies?"
"Huh? Dredged Apparition 3? Really?" Sarah was clearly confused as well.
"Dan, Laura isn't dead. She's right here," Chris said quietly.
I put my face in my hands and braced my elbows on the table and moaned "Are we really doing this right now? Is it too much to ask for one meal without wild accusations?"
"Dan, Laura's right. Drop it," Sarah demanded.
"You're always so quick to jump to her defense, aren't you Sarah? Are you sure that Corona hasn't been filling your head with lies?" Dan said, still staring me down.
"What? Why are you bashing my spirit? She's cool. She wouldn't do that," Sarah said easily. She paused for a moment and a devilish grin appeared on her face. "Okay, I understand now. This is because of Chromos, isn't it? He always acts so annoying and full of himself. How do you put up with him anyway?"
"I can't believe all of my friends have invisible people in their heads," Chris said as he leaned back slightly from the table. "That's got to be so weird. I've got no idea how you all can handle that."
"It's been fine for me. Corona may be a fire spirit, but she's surprisingly chill," Sarah said.
"Well, Chromos is awful. I forgot to order him to shut up and go to sleep one night and he was still rambling about ambient magic levels when I woke up," Dan complained.
"I, uh, do not actually have a spirit in my head anymore, remember?" I added carefully.
"Yeah, the spirit is now loose and free to wander the halls of Thread Creek High School in human form! Very spooky," Dan said.
"Shut up, please?" I groaned. "Do you want me to leave? What are you trying to get at anyway?"
"Just tell the truth," Dan shot back.
"I am what is left of both of them. I told you. I told all of you. I thought you had all accepted that."
"I did. And I still do," Sarah said.
"Don't listen to this idiot. Unlike him, I know who my friends are," Chris said, glaring at Dan.
"Fine, stay brainwashed for all I care. I'll see you on Friday, Aurora," Dan said as he stood up from the table and walked briskly out of the cafeteria. He left his food tray, with a partially eaten side of french fries, behind.
"Are you three still going back to the creek on Friday? Even after that?" Chris asked.
"That's the plan," Sarah said as she plucked a leftover fry from Dan's tray. "We're going to take the bus to your house and then bike to the creek before dark. That way we'll have plenty of sunlight while we look around."
"I'm just going to stay home, okay?" Chris said weakly.
"You know, that might be a good idea." Sarah said and immediately began tapping her chin with an index finger.
"I agree," I said. "There might be more shades. Or worse."
"Yeah, I don't exactly have any magic to defend myself. Or anything conventional. I don't even have a hockey stick" Chris said dejectedly.
I perked up at the mention of magic.
"This morning, I went through some of my mom's old magic stuff," I said excitedly. "She filled a couple journals with diagrams. Maybe you can learn some spells from them?"
Both Sarah and Chris turned and looked directly at me with stunned expressions on their faces.
"Oops, I guess I forgot to tell you about that." The stares intensified. "My mom was apparently a witch and could use magic without a guardian," I explained.
"What!?" Sarah and Chris nearly shouted almost simultaneously.