Swift (28 page)

I turned on the small lamp that sat at the end of the counter and pulled out my purse first, then my backpack. I sat down with my back up against the counter and pulled out the spell books. As I flipped the first book open to the index page, I scanned down it, quickly realizing there was nothing even close to what I needed. I pulled out the next book and tore through each page, desperate to find something.

There was no point, anyway. Who was I kidding? I was still too young in my powers to even come close to helping them. I set the books down and pulled my knees to my chest. I began rocking, trying to stop the pain and the tears from coming. Was there nothing left? Was this it? Was this how it was going to end? They were going to die?

Suddenly, a light flicked on behind me. I swallowed hard and stopped my breathing. Footsteps were coming toward me, and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no way I was going to get out of there without Ms. Donaldson seeing me. So I just waited.

“Meredith?” she asked, looking around the counter, squinting her eyes in my direction.

I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this one. Truthfully, now that I had already been caught, I didn’t care. “Hi, Ms. Donaldson,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Sorry to wake you. I just forgot my backpack and needed to get something out of it.”

“Well, stand up, dear. There is no need for you to hide down there. Is everything okay? You sure ran out of here fast this afternoon.”

For a split second, I wanted to answer no. I wanted to tell her that everything was not okay, that everything was falling apart, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hang on. But I couldn’t, knowing that she would think I was crazy and probably call Aunt Rose or maybe even the police. She began to walk toward me, eyeing the books that lay at my feet.

“I’ll just grab my stuff and be on my way.” I fumbled the books, trying to stuff everything back into my bag before she had a chance to see them clearer.

“I know the burden you bear, my dear,” she said sympathetically.

Gripping my backpack in my hands, I replied, “I ... don’t know what you are talking about. What burden?”

“The books that are in your bag, I know the power they speak of. I know it can be a lot to handle at first.” She smiled, trying to put me at ease.

“H-how do you know about the books I have in my bag?” I asked curiously.

“Hmmm … Well, let’s just say that I had a book similar to that many years ago. So did your mother.”

My mother. She knew about my mother. I wondered what else she knew. I stood up and began to back away, not knowing if she was someone I could trust.

“Don’t be afraid of me. I was once like you, although I don’t practice anymore. After your mother died, I couldn’t bear to use magic anymore.”

“What do you know about my mother?” I asked.

“Ah, well, I was her teacher, you see. We are all given one at one point or another. I had one when I was about your age, and then when I grew into my powers, I was given a student. Your mother was the most powerful witch I had ever seen. She had possessed powers and qualities that I had never witnessed in all my life. Her life as a witch was so promising, but she quit practicing after she had you and your sister. She wanted to shield you girls from magic until she thought you were ready. She wanted you both to have a magic-free childhood. See, your mother had the ability to sense things before they happened; it was a quality I had never seen before. Unfortunately, she became distant to me toward the end. I knew she was in trouble, but she was very secretive and I never knew who or what she was running from. But your father was her protector, and I trusted that he would do the right thing if it came down to it. I know he tried his hardest that night to get you all away from here. I just wished they would have come to me. Maybe I could have helped.” She sighed, looking away from me, staring into the dark library.

I felt my eyes grow wide with shock. Ms. Donaldson had been my mother’s teacher. My father had been my mother’s protector. Just like Abby and Blake were to me. My mind was swimming. Ms. Donaldson had known about me all along.

“I’m assuming that something is going on since you had to come all the way over here this late at night,” she said, staring at me with curious eyes.

I was careful about how I answered, still not knowing if I could fully trust her. “Yes. I’m trying to help someone.”

“But you’re not in any trouble?” She questioned.

I shook my head, not wanting to tell her what I had been trying to do.

“I’m just curious because I’ve sensed a change in you over the last few weeks. When the accident happened, it was almost like you were wearing some type of armor, I couldn’t sense any energy from you. I assumed it was your mother’s work; it had her name written all over it.” She smiled proudly at that comment before continuing. “That’s all she ever wanted for you two girls, to grow up without all of this magic, and when the time came she would tell you about it and let you make the choice to follow your destiny or not. But I also knew that no spell lasted forever. That the spell she had placed in order to protect you would eventually fade and you would be left vulnerable. I know she tried her hardest that night and did the only thing she could. That’s why I asked Rose about you a few weeks ago. I knew your 18
^th
birthday had just passed, and I wondered if maybe that was the day when the spell would finally lift. Sure enough, the first day you walked into the library, I could sense the energy inside you. It was magnificent. Now, I can feel an even more amazing energy from you, which leads me to believe that you have summoned your powers. You have chosen to follow your destiny.”

I felt my eyes grow wide. How did she know about the summoning of my powers?

“Don’t look so alarmed, dear. We are connected now by an even deeper bond, one that can never be broken.”

And it was in that moment that it all came together. I knew what I had to do. A part of me wanted to stay and talk to Ms. Donaldson about all the things she had just told me. But I was running out of time. If I had any chance of saving the Harpers, I had to act now. I hugged Ms. Donaldson goodbye, promising her that we would talk again soon, and thanking her for everything that she had just told me.

I ran out the double glass doors and didn’t stop. The more I ran, the more confident I felt. It was going to work; it had to work. Blake had said himself that all witches were connected … dead or alive, good or evil. And I know Abby said the Council only intervened if the craft was in jeopardy but it was, wasn’t it? I was apparently going to be a powerful witch but my protector, teacher, and guardians were all in danger of dying. I was not sure if this qualified as a major threat in their eyes but I had to at least try. I ran faster, pushing through the pain in my lungs and legs.

I turned the corner onto Shore Drive, and I waited for the pain in my stomach to appear like it had so many times before. But it never came. The gates to the cemetery were closed, so I threw my backpack over and started to climb. I pulled myself up and over the top of the gate and jumped down to the other side. After grabbing my backpack, I raced down the familiar path, passing right by the Harper graves and on to my family’s.

When I arrived at the gravesite, I collapsed down to it, gasping for air. About a minute passed, and I felt like I was ready for what I had come there to do. This was the one place I felt the closest to her, it was the only place I could think to ask for her help. I wanted to travel back to 1905 in order to warn the Harpers about the fire. It was the only way to make sure they were safe. Sure I could try and get a message to them, but then I would always wonder if they got it and if it worked.

“Mom.” I paused for a moment, not knowing quite how to say what I needed to say or if she was even going to get the message. “I need your help. I know you are out there somewhere, and I’m hoping you can hear me. The Harpers need me. They are all in danger, and I need to get back to 1905 in order to warn them. Please.”

I sat there waiting. Waiting for something, anything to happen. But there was nothing. No sounds, no magical lights, no ghostly spirit of her. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed with still no sign of her. No sign that I would be getting the help that I had asked for. The way Abby and Blake explained it to me, the Witch’s Council had asked them for help. Maybe it was just wishful thinking that I could somehow contact them. Maybe this wasn’t going to work like I had originally thought.

I sat with my back up against the gravestone and tried to think of anything else I could do. Another hour passed, and I pulled myself up from the ground. Half of me was in a daze as I walked out of the cemetery. I didn’t think I could make it all the way back home that night; I didn’t have enough strength left. The only place I really wanted to be was at the Harpers’, anyway. The sun would be up in a few hours, and I knew that I would have to answer to Aunt Rose when I got home, but it just didn’t matter.

 As I approached the estate’s tall wooden gates, my heart began to ache, knowing that I had failed them, knowing that it was for certain I would never see them again. I unlatched the lock and pushed open the gate. Standing there, I stared at the large, empty, dark house. My knees almost buckled under me, but I found the strength to continue moving. The comfort of Blake’s bed and his scent that I hoped still lingered on his sheets lured me forward. Once inside, I dragged myself up the winding staircase and curled up onto Blake’s pillow. It was not long before exhaustion took over, and I quickly fell asleep.

At first, my sleep gave me relief from the pain. Then came his voice. He sounded so close, almost as if he were in the next room, just a few steps away from me. But as much as I wanted it to be true, I knew that it was just my cruel dreams, torturing me ruthlessly. But I didn’t care, so I listened as hard as possible, wanting to hear his voice, even though it was agonizing to hear.

Next, I heard a door swing open and a loud gasp.

“
Meredith
!” He called.

More than anything, I wished I had the power to answer him. Tell him what was going to happen to him and his family. Tell him that I loved him. Tell him that no matter what happened that I would never give up on us. But I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do to quiet the alarm in his voice. And there was nothing I wouldn’t do just to be able to touch him again, and save him from the terrible tragedy ahead.

His voice spoke up again. This time it was no higher than a whisper, right into my ear. “Meredith, please open your eyes.”

No
, I thought. If I open my eyes, then his voice will disappear and no telling how long, if ever, it will take for me to hear it again.
No
, I would rather sleep forever.

But then I wondered if he was trying to give me a message or a warning. Maybe he had found a way to communicate with me through my dreams.

“Please, please open your eyes,” he whispered to me.

Then I swear I felt his touch, brushing my hair back across my head. The one touch sent chills over my body, and I yearned for it again. Then, as if a miracle had occurred, I felt his lips brush upon mine. His lips were gentle, and I couldn’t stop myself from enjoying the moment. It felt real, too real. I wondered if this was some kind of punishment. Was some higher power trying to torture me to death?

Then he pulled back, leaving me desperate for more. I was too afraid to move a muscle, not knowing what would happen if I did, scared that the dream would go away. And even though I knew eventually my eyes would have to open and I would be heartbroken all over again, it was worth the price.

“Now do you believe me?” he asked.

Did I believe him?
What was that supposed to mean? But I could tell his voice held a smile in it, and it warmed my insides. This is how I wanted to remember him: sweet, happy, smiling, and alive. There was a part of me that wanted to live in that moment forever, never wanting to open my eyes and see the emptiness of his room. But then I realized that I wanted to lock the moment in my mind forever and be able to look back and remember him just like this.

Chapter Twenty-Three

With much internal conflict, I opened my eyes and saw two sparkling blue eyes staring back at me. I opened and shut my eyes again, trying to wake myself from the dream before anything bad happened, ruining my memory of him forever. But each time I opened them, he was still there. I wrenched forward in bed, realizing I was not dreaming. I was awake.

I gasped. “Blake? Is it really you?”

“It’s me.” He took my hand and placed it on his cheek, allowing me to feel the warmth of his skin. “See, I’m real.”

“Are you back ... or did I go back in …” My mind was so jumbled from being there with Blake that I couldn’t get the right words out.

“You’re here, back in my time.”

“It worked. I can’t believe it! My mother, she must have done this,” I cried.

“But I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just wait for me to come back for you? I told you I would.”

“The church, you and your family …” I trailed off, not able to finish my sentence. My mind was still spinning at the fact that I had traveled back in time and that my mother had helped me do it.