Spirit (26 page)

“Be that as it
may,” Jacob said through gritted teeth, “I still have a right to know if you’re
going to ditch me.”

“Why do you
think I’m going to ditch you?” I asked, buying time.

“Don’t do that,”
Jacob said, taking his eyes off Balor for a moment to pin me with his stare.

“I’m not
planning on ditching you,” I said with a sigh, leaning into Balor’s side. That
movement calmed Balor more than all my petting. He whined again but then sat
back on his haunches, putting his shoulder a little higher than mine, and
turned his head toward me. When Balor’s gaze was broken, Jacob sighed in
relief, letting his hands and shoulders fall.

“Not planning
it,” he pressed.

I closed my eyes
and turned my face into Balor’s fur, breathing in his musky scent of earth and
warmth. “No, not planning it.” My voice was muffled against Balor. “But it
might happen. I didn’t want to say anything because I knew I couldn’t do anything
about it, and I figured if I told you, you would ditch me first.”

“That’s a very
adult way of thinking,” Jacob said, but without enough heat to his voice, which
actually made the words sting more.

“I know,” I
agreed, wrapping my arms around Balor. I clung to my furry friend, feeling the
sting of tears behind my eyelids. “I’m sorry.”

“So your friends
might get you out of here?” he asked.

“They might,” I
answered without looking at him.

“That’s why
you’ve been clinging to that looking glass every night?”

I glanced up at
him then, surprised he knew that. I’d been careful to only pull it out once I
knew he was asleep. When he held my stare, I began to wilt and finally just
nodded in answer. Obviously I hadn’t been as careful as I had thought.

I pulled away
from Balor to straighten up and look him straight in the eye like an adult. “Look,
I’m sorry I kept that from you, but I figured there was a chance we could find
the edge together before my friends got me out of here, and then we could both
leave. I mean, there’s a real possibility that my friends won’t get me out of
here, so I figured we should just keep going.”

“Just how are
your friends supposed to get you out of here?” Jacob asked, tilting his head to
the side slightly. “You never said there was another way out.”

“Oh, right.” I
dropped my eyes and scuffed the toe of my boot in the dirt. I had only told
Jacob about finding the edge, not about the second possibility of being
summoned. Remembering my intent to meet his gaze like an adult, I placed the
heel of my boot on the ground and lifted my chin.

“Supposedly if
someone from over there,” I nodded to the side as if our world was just to the
right of us, “summons you from here, they can just pull you out.”

“I see,” Jacob
replied, straightening his head but not breaking my gaze. “And let me guess,
our dear old friend Gwyn told you this?” At my nod, he continued, “Right, and
of course you’d have no reason not to believe him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come now,
Shayna,” Jacob said as though he was talking to a simple-minded child. “Gwyn
told you about the edge too, and we’ve been looking for that damn thing for
days. And where are we?” he demanded, flinging his arms out to the side and
turning on the spot, looking around. There was no need for me to look, but I
couldn’t help glancing around. This spot on the river by the woods was no
different than any other spot where we’d stopped these last few nights. The
moon still hung in the air, always just over my left shoulder, always only a
quarter full. For all I knew, we really were just going in circles and we had
camped in this same spot every single time we’d stopped. Hell, it was very
possible that there were no “nights,” that we were just in some infinite loop
of time, always the same night/day or whatever.

“I told you I
didn’t understand the magic of this place,” I said, my voice sounding like I
was apologizing, though for what I had no idea.

“There is no
magic to this place, Shayna,” Jacob said, turning to face me and dropping his
arms to his sides. His blue eyes were haunted and full of sadness. I realized
then that maybe he had come with me on this wild chase just so I wouldn’t be
alone, not because he really expected to get anywhere.

A memory niggled
at the back of my mind, nearly two years ago now, of Steven’s baby cousin being
haunted by a poltergeist. I had written the banishing spell and tried to give
it to Steven to perform himself, but he’d refused. He said that his family
wouldn’t believe he could do it, so in effect, he actually couldn’t do it. That
was how magic was sometimes: all it took was faith for it to work, and if you
didn’t have faith, then it didn’t work. I wondered if Jacob’s resolute
disbelief in the existence of the edge kept us here, running in circles.

“There is magic,
if you believe it,” I said quietly, not really sure if I spoke to him or to
myself.

“We’re not in
some goddamn Disney movie, Shayna,” Jacob said with some real heat to his
voice. Then I knew I was right; Jacob had no faith whatsoever, and he was
keeping me here.

“No,” I said,
“more like a Tim Burton flick.” A ridiculous, hysterical laugh burst out of me.
Jacob furrowed his dark brows at me, squinting a bit, as if he was staring at a
crazy person. Maybe he was. I managed to get myself under control and waved a
hand in the air as if I could erase that last outburst.

“This isn’t
funny, Shayna,” Jacob said, placing his hands on his hips.

“I know that,” I
said, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. “Look, that’s how magic works,
okay? Just like Peter Pan with the happy thoughts and flying, just like Dorothy
and her ruby shoes to go home, it’s all just faith and belief. If you don’t
have either, then it doesn’t work.”

“You believe in
magic?” Jacob blinked at me.

“Believe in it,
practice it, live it, am it,” I said, nodding, not caring about the
increasingly worried look on his face. “I told you my friend accidentally
banished me here. That’s because we, me and my two best friends, could do
magic, all kinds of magic. I could control the Earth, make earthquakes with my
temper, and make flowers grow with just a touch of my fingertips; I could feel
other people’s emotions, feed on them, and change them at will; and I could
write spells that summoned angels and pure power. My two best friends were pure
power and magic. Jodi could control Air so well that she could breathe
underwater and summon faeries with her voice, and Steven? Steven could start a fire
with the snap of his fingertips and he could look into the sun for days and
never go blind. Yes, I believe in magic, Jacob, every little bit of it.”

He stared at me,
slack jawed, for a long moment. When he recovered, he laughed as though I was
trying to play some colossal joke on him. When I didn’t so much as smile and
only stared back at him, the laugh died in his throat. Memories of Jensen’s
disbelieving face swam into my mind, mingling with Steven’s hurt face when
Anthony called him crazy.

“How can you
laugh?” I asked, my voice finally breaking as tears stung my eyes. After
everything I had been through up until now, everything I watched Jodi and
Steven go through, one more person not believing in me was too much to take. “You
yourself believed in the Slaugh. I mean, here you are. How much more proof do
you need? We were surrounded by elves, gremlins, goblins, and Redcaps for Chrissake!”
I stomped and threw my hands up in the air.

“No, I said my grandmother
believed,” Jacob corrected me, putting one hand out to stop me. “I never
believed, not before I got here anyway.”

“Fine,” I
huffed, closing my eyes for a moment. “Fine, but you’re here now, right? And
you still can’t wrap your head around the fact that magic and all that it
contains could possibly be real? Jacob, the damn moon doesn’t even move here!”

He glanced away
from me, looking at Balor, who had silently watched our exchange like a tennis
match, swinging his head back and forth. The massive dog was like no species we
had on Earth, with his massive height, his pure white coat bleeding to shocking
red at his ears, and his ability to understand us when we spoke. Jacob turned
his head toward Fearghus and Angus with a pinched look of pain. I imagined – if
I could still feel other peoples’ emotions – a sharp pain would be blossoming
behind my eyes right about now.

“Shayna,” Jacob
said with a sigh, slowly turning to face me again. When he met my hopeful gaze,
he shook his head.

“Really?” I
demanded, throwing my hands up in the air. “Really?”

“Okay, maybe
magic is real here,” he said, and I couldn’t help the scoff that burst from me
at the word “maybe.” “But,” he continued and I knew I didn’t want to hear it,
“magic isn’t real at home. Home is just home.”

My shoulders
fell and my breath ran out of me in defeat. Maybe the sprite woman was right. Maybe
hope was something deadly here, and everyone else just refused to let it infect
them. Well, that was fine, but he wasn’t going to stop me, not anymore.

“Fine.” I pushed
my hands out in front of me, pushing this argument away as I realized I was
banging my head against a brick wall that would never give. I shook my head as
I went over to gather up my things.

“Shayna,” Jacob
said, but I ignored him. He walked over to me, tried to get in my way, but I
sidestepped and moved around him.

I checked my
little crossbow to make sure the arrow was still secure and cocked and the
others were still in the hip quiver. I tossed out the remaining tea from my cup
and organized Fearghus’s saddle bags.

“Shayna, stop,”
Jacob said, reaching out to touch my shoulder, but I dodged around him, picking
up anything else I might need. I almost grabbed Jacob’s jacket but stopped
myself mid-motion, making my fingers close into a fist. I turned on my heel and
walked back over to the horses. I heard Jacob make a noise of exasperation, but
I was determined not to look at him.

There wasn’t any
food to split and he already had a weapon, so I was as ready as possible. I put
my foot into the stirrup and swung myself up into the saddle.

“Balor, to me,”
I called out, and the magnificent white dog got to his feet and bounded over to
me without hesitation. I gripped the reins and turned Fearghus around to face
Jacob.

“What are you
doing?” he asked, almost reaching out to take Fearghus’s bridle, but the horse
danced out of Jacob’s reach as if he had read my mind.

“Thanks for
trying,” I said, “but your disbelief is keeping me from escaping. I have to go
home. Other people depend on me, and I can’t let them down. I hope you can find
the others again.”

I pulled on
Fearghus’s reins again and got us turned around. Jacob tried to stop me,
calling my name as I put my heels to Fearghus and urged him into a trot. Balor kept
pace easily by our side. Jacob ran behind us now. Fearghus’s massive stride put
distance between us quicker than an earthbound horse, so in less than half a
minute, Jacob’s voice was almost too faint to hear over the hooves, paws, and
running water.

A small part of
me twisted with guilt at leaving him behind to fend for himself, but he’d been
holding me back. For all I knew, if I had struck out on my own, I would’ve
figured out the magic of this place ages ago, found the edge, and be home
already, figuring out how to help Steven and Jodi invoke my spirit so we could
talk and find a way to bring me home. Staying with Jacob was just too risky,
and I had taken far too many risks already, all of which had culminated with my
death. I wasn’t about to do anything else that threatened Jodi and Steven’s
lives.

I scrubbed my
face with the back of my hand, wiping the tears away, and pushed all thoughts of
Jacob’s pained face out of my mind. I thought about Jodi and her swishing,
yellow blond hair and Steven with his honey brown eyes, glowing with a banked
fire. That was my home, where I needed to be, and that was where my thoughts
should have been the entire time. For a moment, I thought I heard hooves
pounding the ground behind us as Jacob and Angus tried to catch up, but I
didn’t look back. I was never going to look back again.

Chapter 15

When I next
stopped to water Fearghus and Balor, I took out the looking glass immediately,
clutching it to my chest as I looked for a comfortable spot to sit for an
indeterminate amount of time. My fingers had little red crescent moons and one
long deep indent marred the meat of my palm. I flexed my hand, staring at the
marks, only then realizing how desperately I had clung to the looking glass instead
of the perfectly good silver handle.

Balor threw
himself down on the ground, rolled over on his back, and began to swish back
and forth, getting an itch on his back. Fearghus let his head drop low, his big
black eyes fluttering closed. For one fleeting moment, I thought about sending
Balor off to hunt, the rumble in my stomach seconding the idea, but when I
looked at him, all four paws up in the air with his tongue hanging out on one
side, I couldn’t bring myself to disturb his moment of joy. I could deal with
going without food for one night. Maybe after we woke, I’d take him hunting and
we’d both find some food. Settling myself at the foot of a tree, leaning my
back against it, I tucked the pistol-grip crossbow between me and the tree,
making sure the handle was positioned in such a way that I could easily grab
it.