Tracking Magic: A Rylee Adamson Short Story (3 page)

BOOK: Tracking Magic: A Rylee Adamson Short Story
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CHAPTER 4

 

W
e ended up
way out in the badlands, deeper than I’d ever been before. The summer air lay still. No wind, which was very unusual, and to be honest it creeped me out. I opened the door and stepped out, my feet crunching on the sparse brown grass— more dirt and rocks than plant life. I could feel Milly, her thread of energy still pulled me to the south, but there was no more road. We would be on foot from here on in.

“Can you still feel her?” Giselle asked.

“Yes, stronger now,” I said, then lowered my voice. “Something creepy is going on here.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she tipped her head to one side. “Why do you say that?”

I took a deep breath and slowly turned in a circle taking in the view all around us. What was it? Not just the lack of wind. No, there was nothing, no birds, no slight scuttle of a bug or sniff of a coyote. Nothing.

“It’s too empty,” I finally said, coming full circle to stare at Giselle. She slowly inclined her head.

“Yes, it is. Now, let’s go find Milly and the stone she has in her possession.”

Taking the lead, I followed the thread of the other girl’s . . . life? Or energy? I wasn’t truly sure, I only knew it was her I followed, her pulse of emotions humming alongside my own.

The odd part was it didn’t seem weird. More like I’d been doing this all my life . . . “Tracking,” I whispered.

Giselle reached out and put a hand on my shoulder.

“What did you say?”

I turned my head so I could look her in the eye. “Tracking. That’s what I’m doing.”

Giselle’s eyes widened. “Oh my.”

“What?” Crap, what now?

“Nothing. We can talk about it later.”

The next few minutes we travelled without talking, though I kept glancing at Giselle hoping she would say more. When she did, though, it had nothing to do with me.

“Why do you think young Milly is out in the middle of the badlands?”

I sniffed. “I don’t know.”

“Think.”

Reaching back I traced my fingers along the handle of my bowie knife, two could play this game. It didn’t really matter why Milly was out in the badlands. Giselle was just trying to distract me. I countered with a question of my own.

“What does the stone she’s supposedly got really do?”

My mentor took a sharp breath in then slowly exhaled. Though I hadn’t known her long, I had a gut feeling she was about to spill.

“It is not just a stone. It is a honing device for demons that live on the deeper levels of the Veil. It allows them to cross to the human world without being summoned. For it to be floating around, in the hands of a young girl, is extremely dangerous. I will not explain it more. This is enough information for you. The stone is dangerous, and that above all else is what you must remember.”

Her brown eyes were serious and I gave her a quick bob of my head in acknowledgment. There would be nothing more gained from questioning her.

We worked our way along the barren land, the sun high over head, the wind starting to pick up. In the distance, the top of an old mining shaft, the kind that were supposed to be shut down was barely visible. That was the direction of the pull I felt toward Milly. If what I felt was right, we would be headed straight to the mining shaft. I sincerely hoped we’d get to pass by it without even looking down. The idea of trying to get a kid out of a deep, stinky, dark shaft gave me the willies.

The threads inside my head took that moment to intensify, tightening into coils that hummed with energy. Looked like the mine shaft was where we were headed to after all. Crap. “We’re close to her.”

Giselle slowed her steps, allowing me to go first.

Without another thought, I pulled my bowie knife out and held it in my right hand. Something about the top of the mine shaft gave me the heebie jeebies, and I did my best not to look too closely. The shifting of a slim body hunched down behind the edge of the shaft; there was a glimmer of dark hair, but without even seeing her, I knew the crouching person was Milly.

“Hey, Milly. We aren’t here to hurt you,” I called out.

The figure hunched more, disappearing behind the shaft completely. “Then why have you got a knife out?” Her voice was pitched with fear, exhaustion and youth. Slipping my knife back into its sheath I crept forward.

“I put it away. I wasn’t sure if you were alone. I felt . . .” How was I supposed to tell her I felt her pain earlier? No, that wasn’t a good idea.

“I was worried you might be in trouble.” I continued forward, the ground crunching under my feet with each step. Less than ten feet between me and the mine shaft and I could see the top of Milly’s head clearly. She trembled, her slight frame shaking with every breath.

“Are you hurt?”

“I think my arm is broken.” She whimpered, lifting her head to peer at me over the lip of the shaft. Those huge green eyes of hers wide with fear and pain stared up at me.

“The person who hurt you . . .” I said, staring around us, seeing nothing.

“He was a shifter, I think.”

Reaching the old mine shaft I peered down the open hole, my gut clenching. Wide enough for two people, and easily five feet across, the inky blackness stared up at me and with it came the faint whisper of old death curling along the updraft. I swallowed hard and refocused on the kid. “Listen, you can come with me. We’ll get your arm set and everything.”

“You’ll protect me?” she whispered. The disbelief was clear in both her voice and her eyes. I had to fight not to think about Berget, to wonder if anyone had tried to protect her. Tried to keep her safe. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.” I crouched down beside the mine shaft, my back against it soaking up the warmth from the sun. Caution highlighting her every move, Milly crept around the shaft until she was next to me, our sides touching.

“How did you know my name?” She asked.

“A shifter came after me, thinking I was you, maybe the same one who hurt you.” I said, the truth falling from my lips even while Giselle sucked in a sharp, disapproving breath. What the hell? No point in lying. Honesty had got me into trouble in the past, but I didn’t have it in me to lie.

Milly looked up at me, her hands gripping the tattered bottom of her too large shirt that cradled her obviously injured arm. “So you came to find me?”

“Yes. You have something the shifter and other supernaturals want. A stone.”

Her face paled. “I don’t have it.”

Giselle had drawn close while Milly and I had spoken. “Where is it, child?”

Milly lowered her face and shook her head. “I can’t tell you. He’ll kill me.”

That could not possibly bode well for anyone. Shit, was this kid already dealing with demons? I stood and moved away from the mine shaft, eyes searching the surrounding area. “What happened to the shifter who came after you?” I thought about his speed, and teeth. How had she gotten away unscathed?

A gulping sob spun me around, but Giselle beat me to it and had her arms wrapped around Milly, soothing her, being careful not to bump her injured arm.

“Hush, hush. Tell us what happened.”

“I didn’t mean to, he startled me and I didn’t mean to.”

Oh my God, did she mean she’d killed him?

“Holy fuck,” I whispered, feeling my eyes widen. How had she managed to kill Martin? Because even though she hadn’t said it, I was damn sure that was what she meant. He’d nearly had me and I even had some training.

Giselle mouthed a word over Milly’s head.

Witch.

Well, that explained it. If she could toss around magic, then she was far more dangerous than me or Giselle.

There was no more getting words out of Milly now, her sobs quickly reaching an out of control crescendo. Giselle helped her stand and I stood back, watching the interplay, not really sure what to think. If I’d broken down like Milly at any point, Giselle would have smacked me upside the back of my head, yet here she was coddling this new girl. Maybe because of the age difference between us . . . no, that wasn’t why. Giselle lifted her eyes to mine as if reading my thoughts.

“Needs are different for every person. You can’t treat everyone the same, not really.”

I grunted. Not that it really bothered me; more than anything, I was curious to see the change in my mentor.

The air around me shifted, like a giant exhale of breath . . . right out of the mine shaft. I scrambled backwards, the ground giving a heave as if trying to vomit something particularly nasty out.

Milly screamed, her voice pitched like that of a terrified rabbit. “Run, we have to run!”

Giselle pulled on the girl’s good arm and they ran back towards the car. But not me. No, my legs were frozen in place, fear paralyzing me exactly like Giselle had said would happen. Bravery was not what kept me there, staring as the monstrous creature flowed out of the mine shaft and towards me. Fear froze me to the spot.

My mind screamed at me, but still I stayed where I was, unable to unlock my joints. Snake. A snake of proportions I couldn’t grasp. Its body slid out of the mine shaft, barely squeezing through. The scales were grey, white and black, and its eyes glittered with the same inky darkness as the inside of the mine shaft. Its body continued to writhe out of the shaft and it stared at me, as if assessing my ability to hurt it. I stared back, unable to look away.

“Giselle!” I finally managed, pulling my bowie knife from my back, my hand shaking. What the hell did I think I was going to manage with it, I had no idea. I just didn’t want to go down without a fight. The snake hissed, its mouth opening with two foot long fangs lowering from its upper jaw. Oh my God, I was going to die.

“Kill it!” Giselle yelled back at me.

Right. That was first on my list, immediately after I pissed my pants.

The snake pulled back, and I could see the intention. It struck, its four foot wide head flying towards me, mouth open. I dove to the left, putting the mine shaft between me and the gigantic reptile.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. My brain clung to the words, half in prayer, half in utter and complete disbelief.

The snake was between me and my mentor now, and I held my ground, not knowing what the freak I was going to do. The snake took a long look at me, tongue flicking out; then turned and slithered away. Going straight for Giselle and Milly.

I’d promised Milly I would protect her. And she believed me.

The same as I’d promised Berget. But I’d failed my little sister, I hadn’t kept her safe. She was gone and there was no going back on that, no re-dos.

I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, I wouldn’t let anything happen to Milly. I couldn’t.

The fear in me clicked off, and like a new switch being thrown the training Giselle had put into me. All the things she’d taught me rushed through my blood and muscles, kicked me into overdrive. Sprinting around the mine shaft I ran alongside the gigantic snake’s body until I came to the curved line where its head was raised above the ground. The sound of Milly’s sobbing and Giselle’s swearing told me they were close, too close to get away.

The snake swung its head back, driving a bite towards me. A bite that would cut me in half if it connected. I dove towards the reptile’s body, out of the way of the mouth and fangs, landing directly on its back. The hard glitter of its scales, the feel of the cool skin under my hands, was a brief thought before the coils below me began to buck and thrash. I gripped with my legs but my efforts weren’t enough, as a massive coil from further down the body was flung forward, sweeping me off its back.

I hit the dirt hard, knocking the wind out of me with a grunt. But I rolled with it, forcing myself to my feet. Sucking wind, I stumbled forward and did the only thing I could. The snake’s tail was the closest thing and I fell on it, driving the bowie knife deep into the flesh right through one of the white scales. The bone within stop the force of my blow. Blood spurted up, brilliant against the pristine scale. I jerked the blade out and stepped back as the snake thrashed its tail, blood flinging everywhere.

“You would stop me from killing the girl.”

I blinked up at the suddenly speaking snake. Yeah, say that ten times fast. All I could manage was a simple, “Yes.”

The snake stared down at me, the voice distinctly feminine. “I do not want to kill you, Tracker. You are far more valuable than you see. But I cannot let the girl live. She is poisoned beyond anyone’s ability to save. Even yours.”

The bowie knife’s handle was slick with the snake’s blood, and my hand spasmed from gripping it so hard. There had to be a way to stop this. “I can’t let you kill her. I promised her I would keep her safe.”

Was this really happening? I could see past the snake, see Giselle pulling Milly along. I had to give them time. Even if it mean I died. With that new understanding of myself settling over me, everything in me calmed. The last drops of fear dissipated, the panic evaporating under the knowledge that I would die, so Giselle and Milly could live.

The snake tipped her head. “This is as it must be. I will not kill you, not this time. But the other one must die. There is no other way.”

BOOK: Tracking Magic: A Rylee Adamson Short Story
13.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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