Henry led us close to the old willow and stopped a few feet short, avoiding the shade of the tree. He was right—it was a nice day, but cold, so I’d come out in two sweaters, some extra thick wooly socks, and some mittens Mom had knitted, and of course, my usual poncho. Without them, I’d have been shivering. Even so, it wasn’t enough.
I put my hands together in prayer, and Henry took a cautious step back. “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad!” I gave him my best squinty eye. “H¯æte.”
A shimmering ring of light circled overhead, bringing with it a blanket of heat. Not too shabby, I thought. I’d finally mastered Isabella’s heat spell.
Henry pursed his lips, impressed. “Hmm. Ley line magic. I didn’t teach you that.”
“I guess you don’t know everything, then.” I cheekily winked back.
“I guess not.” He drew a square in the air. “Wegan innierfe!” Two seats and a small table materialized from nowhere. He sat down at one of the chairs.
I placed the heavy tome on the table. “Well, if we were going to do this sitting down, why not practice inside?”
“What, and risk having you blow up the Abbey? Not a chance!”
As I sat down next to him, I cocked my head to one side, smiling. He had a point. Come to think of it, he also had the most beautiful eyes. Not for the first time, I found myself gazing into them, wondering how they could be so gentle, so clever, so cheeky, yet so thoughtful at the same time. I got all that from a single twinkle, and then I died a little on the inside when I realized he was staring right back at me.
His mouth was set firm, all business and no fun. “Do you think you’re ready now?”
Oh Gaia. He must think I’m a total lemon. “Um, yeah, good to go.” Worse and worse. Now I’m talking like a buffoon.
To my astonishment, in a complete shift of mood, Henry moved the book aside and took hold of both my hands. His eye contact never broke with mine as he pulled off each mitten and laid them carefully on the table. My heart pounded, and I could hardly breathe, wondering where this was going and praying for more than I dared imagine.
“Close your eyes.”
I did as he told me. It crossed my mind someone might be watching from the Abbey, but I didn’t care. If this was going to be the moment I’d been hoping for, then so be it. If Henry was going to be brave enough to kiss me in front of his family, I wouldn’t object. I sat a little more forward, not exactly pouting but making myself available if he wanted to kiss me.
The flesh on my skin tingled as he ran his fingers between my thumb and forefingers. It was so delightful, so sensual, and my whole body came alive at his touch. I wanted to open my eyes so badly, but afraid to break the moment, I kept them closed.
“Are your thoughts focused on what I’m doing to you?”
“Ahem. Err, yes, yes, they are.”
“Tell me about your breathing.”
“My wha—?”
“Your breathing. Where is it focused?”
I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the sublime sensations running through me and focusing on what he’d asked. “I, um, well, I feel it mostly in my chest. My, err, heart.”
“Concentrate on that.”
I nodded.
“Don’t open your eyes.”
“I won’t.”
To my disappointment, Henry let go of my hands, but then his touch resumed on the back of them, where he continued to draw two gentle lines along my arms toward my elbows.
“And now?”
“Now I’m focused on your fingers again.” I didn’t mention about the electricity coursing through me.
He sighed and stopped. “No, don’t think about my hand. Think about your breathing.”
The corner of my mouth twisted a little. The impatient edge to his tone told me this wasn’t what I wanted it to be. Oh well. So where was he going, then? Still, I remained determined to enjoy myself.
Henry took in a deep breath of his own. I wondered if he was studying my face. What was he thinking? Surely he must have some inkling of what I was feeling, and how difficult yet sublimely wonderful this was for me? I so badly wanted to read his mind now. He pulled away, and already I felt the loss of his touch. “Now, I want you to remember how you were breathing. How it felt. Try to keep that sensation. Do you think you can do that for me?”
The experience was still fresh enough, and though my breathing wasn’t quite so deep now as when his hands had been on me, that sweet sensation was still there, lingering. I nodded, afraid that talking might make me forget it.
“Okay, now, did you learn the levitation spell I asked you to?”
I nodded again, recalling the painful smack as the Rubik’s cube had bounced off my head in Isabella’s bedroom. I tried not to giggle. At last, I had an inkling of where this was going.
“I want you to raise your magic book off the table and hold it in the air for twenty seconds. Only, when you say the incantation, I want you to keep your focus on your breathing, as you did just now, and not on the spell or on the book. And don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”
“Yes, boss.”
Still, I pulled myself together, knowing that as every second passed, the memory of how I felt when he touched me weakened. I remembered where he’d positioned the book and pictured it sitting there on the table.
“Scierpan ûpweardes.”
It was hard, not being able to open my eyes. After all, how could I tell if the spell was working if I couldn’t see anything around me? But I did as Henry instructed and tried to control the ley line power as I called upon it by managing my breathing. A rush of pure magic shot through my body, simulating the sensations I’d just experienced. I was surprised and a bit alarmed by how good it felt.
“You can open your eyes now.”
More than a little curious, I did as Henry commanded. To my astonishment, the tome had risen a few feet above the tabletop and was happily hovering in midair.
“Wow!” The second I spoke, the book came crashing down and landed with a great thump on the table top. “Dang.”
Henry opened his mouth to say something, but determined to get this right, I sat up straight, bit my lips, and tried again.
“Scierpan ûpweardes.”
The book wobbled and then slowly began to rise in the air. Unfortunately, so did my mittens, which, due to their relative lightness, would soon be in orbit if I didn’t break the spell. My concentration broke, and everything came crashing back down on the table.
Henry leaned over and picked up one of the mittens that had fallen to the ground.
“Shoot, I thought I had it,” I said.
“You did. You’re doing great. Just keep at it.”
I shook my head. “Some all-powerful necromancer I am. I can’t even levitate a silly book.”
Henry took my hand, and this time he pressed it affectionately. “Don’t be hard on yourself. Most necromancers are trained from the day they are born to control their powers, but you just came to it. It’s not your fault your parents tried to shield you. You have it all inside you, and you did it a moment ago, so I know you can do it. You just have to believe in yourself.”
“If you say so, Yoda.” I was more interested in his hand. How wicked was I?
“I do. Now try again.” He squeezed me a little more and then let go. His touch rekindled some of the magic he’d stirred up before.
I closed my eyes and inhaled. My first thought was to empty my mind of any doubts, which would only serve to hinder me. When I reached a place of peace, I called out to the closest ley line and summoned its power.
Something was different this time. I knew I could do it—after all, hadn’t I just done it? Knowing that brought with it calmness, and this time, when the magic entered me, I could feel it radiate through every inch of my body. Rather than say the spell to expel it as fast as I could as I did before, I held on to the sensation for a moment, wanting to enjoy this feeling for as long as possible. With every second that passed, the store of power in me grew more intense, until at last, afraid the magic might overwhelm me, I had to let go.
“Scierpan ûpweardes.”
I knew I had done it. My eyes were still closed, but I knew. And when I opened them, there was the tome, hovering a few feet off the table surface—no mittens—just the book. And Henry was smiling.
I stood up, and delighted by my own accomplishment, I made the book turn a circle in the air, and then another, before bringing it back down to the table, where it landed gently in the exact spot it had left. Giddy with my success, I would have danced around the graveyard if I wasn’t afraid of what Henry would think of me.
“Well done, you,” Henry said. “How do you feel?”
“Amazing.”
“Good. Because the next part of the lesson is going to be a lot harder.”
I sat back down and braced myself. “Oh.”
“Yes. You’re a necromancer, not just an earth or ley line witch. It’s time to commune with the dead.”
A new bolt of adrenaline swept through me, and I put my hand to my lips. At last, we were getting down to it. This was why I was here after all. I twirled the ring on my finger, and with a heart swelling with excitement, I waited to hear what he had to say.
A door closed to my right, and glancing up, I watched as Eleanor crossed the lawn to join us. She had changed into jeans and a leather jacket, and looked quite stylish, even with the wooly bobble hat on her head and matching scarf.
“Hey, you two, I’m popping out to run some errands for Dad.” She stopped by Henry, and I noticed a secret exchange between them, but had no clue what it meant. “He wants you to pop in for a minute, when you have a chance.”
“Did he say why?” Henry asked.
“Nope. You’ll have to ask him yourself. See ya later.” And then to me, “Have fun!”
“See you,” I said.
Once she was gone, Henry stood up, stretched, and glanced over toward the Abbey. “I suppose I’d better go see what he wants. You don’t mind, do you?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just practice my awesome skills until you come back.”
Henry grinned. “You do that.” And then he left.
But I had other things in mind now besides practicing my levitation skills. This might be the only time Henry would be away, and I had to find the grave Isabella had mentioned so I could contact Jimmy. I waited until Henry was safely back inside the Abbey and then headed for the willow. I hoped if I passed under it, I’d be able to get back to the Abbey afterward, or at least hoped Henry would have the good sense to come and find me if I got stuck on the other side. It occurred to me I should wait for him to return, but I really wanted to talk to Jimmy and this would only take a moment or two.
A slight chill caressed my cheeks as I passed under the tree. I looked back over my shoulder, and sure enough, the Abbey had disappeared into nonexistence. Ahead, a sea of headstones surrounded me. I hadn’t given them much thought when we’d arrived, but alone as I was now, they appeared more sinister, and my skin began to tingle. I had a strange feeling I was being watched, and my gut told me it was not by the living.
I shuddered, dreading to think what would happen if the ring failed to protect me here, as it had failed before in Times Square. Then again, I had been unprepared in Times Square. This time, I was aware and ready to invoke the ring’s power to protect myself. Cold, and suddenly determined to get this over with, I pulled my poncho close about me and started scanning the names on the stones.
What grave was it she said? Finn something or other? I recalled she’d said it was over by the cemetery gates, so I focused my search in that general direction.
One stone caught my attention. A clean pot of unseasonably fresh lilies had been placed before it, standing out from the neighboring chipped and mud-splattered bowls containing wilted or dead flora, if any at all. On this stone, the black granite still presented as shiny as the day the mason engraved it, standing superior among the tired, almost-illegible graves surrounding it. I veered toward it, curious to see who was buried there.
I was not surprised by the name on the grave, though was a little taken aback by the inscription beneath it.
Beneath this little plot of earth
lie the remains of Eleanor (Nell) Tilney,
née Drummond.
Born Dec 3, 1965 - Died June 18, 2012
Wife and mother of Frederick, Henry,
and Eleanor Tilney.
Gaia will atone.
Gaia will atone. I stared at the last sentence for a few moments, wondering exactly what it was supposed to mean. Atone. Atone for what? What on earth could their mother have done that required everlasting atonement? Or had something been done to her? And the inscription seemed so cold and unfeeling. No beloved wife or mother. No dearly departed. Nothing. Whatever had happened, it had piqued my interest to such a degree that I decided to ask Henry about it when he came back. Now though, I had more pressing business to attend to.
The protection of my heat spell had worn off. Rather than cast another, I pulled my poncho close and walked a little faster, ignoring the foggy vapor of my own breathing and quickly scanning one stone after another, in search of the precious graveyard hotspot.
At last I found it. This headstone read:
Elliot Finn,
Blacksmith
Died 1692.
Reunited at last with Esther,
his beloved wife.
Sweet. No mystery here. Phone in hand, I turned it on and checked for a signal. Nothing. I held it up slightly over my face and began to circle the grave to connect with the outside world. Whenever I moved closer to the stone, I’d get a single bar, but I had to get even closer to it to get a second, and it would quickly fade in and out. In the end, I had to stand right in front of the stone, conscious I was probably standing over poor Elliot’s head and wishing I could be anywhere else but this close to the dead. I’d seen what happened in movies. It never ended well for the hero.
I punched in Jimmy’s contact and prayed. “Come on, Jimmy, pick up.”
The phone called twice, and then he answered.
“Hi, Jimmy. It’s me. Cat.”
For a second, my brother was silent, and I wondered if I’d lost the signal. There were three bars on the display, which should be enough. I put it back to my ear.
“Oh, Cat. It’s you. How are you doing?”
I’d never heard my brother so downbeat. “I’m fine. I was just calling to see how you were.”
Another pause. I double-checked the phone, but the line hadn’t dropped.
“I saw Isabella this morning,” Jimmy said. I waited for him to go on. His tone told me everything I needed to know, but I wanted to hear it from him. It was his heart, after all—his news. “It’s all over between us. We’re done.”
“What happened?” My brother had a big heart to trample, and I ached to be with him, wishing I could comfort him.
“She sent me a text clearly meant for someone else. After she sent it, she must have realized and came to find me, but it was too late. I didn’t think she was like that. I knew she was fae, but I thought she was different. I thought I could trust her.”
“Jimmy, I’m so sorry.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then, good-natured soul that he was, he turned the conversation back to me. “What’s the Abbey like?”
I returned in the direction of the Abbey, although I couldn’t see it, keeping half an eye on that signal, just in case I lost it. “It’s wonderful. Very gothic—like my favorite books. Everyone is being very kind. The General’s a bit odd, but maybe he’ll grow on me. Eleanor is lovely, and Henry is helping me with my spells. You’ll have to see it for yourself, ’cos it’s hidden in the middle of the city like Brigadoon. You’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will. How long are you there for?”
“I dunno, it’s been left open ended. I’ll text you when I know for sure.”
“Sounds good. Look, I’d better get back to my books. I have an exam coming up.”
I knew this was an excuse to get off the phone, but I understood. “Sure. I love you, Jimmy.”
“Me too.” The call ended.
“Who do you love?”
Coming out of nowhere, Henry’s voice startled me so much, I jumped back in surprise. My buttocks scrapped against the top of the blacksmith’s headstone, but though I felt a slight dizziness, the power of the ring, or perhaps the enchantments surrounding the cemetery, saved me from the onslaught I’d felt at Times Square. My palm flattened against my chest as I recovered from the shock, but that was all.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” Henry held two steaming mugs in front of him, and the distinct aroma of hot chocolate invaded my senses. He held one out to me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the mug. “I thought I’d check in on Jimmy. You don’t mind? I was worrying about him, so I wanted to clear my mind so I could concentrate on your lessons.”
Henry’s smile softened into a look of concern. “Is he all right?”
I gave a negative grunt in reply. “No, but he will be. It’ll just take time.” There was a dollop of melting cream on top of the chocolate, and I licked it with the tip of my tongue. The chocolate was still too hot to chug, so I cupped the mug to warm both hands and began walking slowly back toward the willow. Henry followed in silence and paused with me when I stopped at his mother’s grave. Now we were here, I hesitated, wondering how to phrase my question without causing offense.
“Can I ask what happened? To your mother?”
Henry lowered his gaze, and a sadness diminished his natural smile. “They never told me at the time. All we knew was she had passed, and that was enough to take in as it was. I saw the death certificate much later. That said heart failure.” His gaze wandered upward toward the sky, as he languished in some distant memory.
I regretted bringing this up. Deciding to put my own morbid curiosity on hold, I took a sip of my chocolate. “This is good,” I said, tipping the mug ever so slightly toward him.
His attention returned to me. “I’m glad you like it. Shall we get on?”
“Yes, please.”
Henry led the way back to the willow, and I followed. I was still curious about the inscription on the stone, but it didn’t seem like the right time to ask about it right now. And we had some work to do. Work that could require communing with the dead. Perhaps, with a little patience, I might soon be able to glean some answers, without upsetting Henry at all. With that notion in mind, I marched to the willow tree, determined to learn as much as I could, so I could unravel some of her history by myself later.