Awakening (29 page)

I pointed toward the cans sitting on
the counter. “There’s some chili and a can of corn.”

“
Great. I have the fire
going. I found about half the books I was looking for.” He held out
another book. This one seemed to have made it through the attack
unscathed.

“
Find anything about your
Draugrs in those books?”

“
A couple references, but
nothing that would help us.”

I started opening one of the cans, a
hot and spicy southwestern chili. I poured the contents into a pot.
“You still think that’s what those things were?”

“
Draugrs are the only type
of magical creatures that comes close to what we saw.” He reached
over and handed me another can. “I got the fire going. I tried to
clean up a bit in the living room, but the place is a disaster
area.”

I looked out into the living room.
“They did a number on this whole place.”

Luke ran a hand through his hair. “I
just don’t see the point. Why trash the place?”

I remembered what they had done to the
magic shop. “For the fun of it?”

“
Who are these
guys?”

“
A bunch of murdering
crazies,” I muttered under my breath, opening a can of sweet
corn.

Luke nodded his head and gestured at
the pot slowly bubbling with chili. “How long until we
eat?”

I poured the corn into another pot and
turned on the burner. “It should take me about ten minutes to warm
everything up.”

Luke opened the book in his hands and
looked down at the pages. “Sounds good. I’ll start searching again
for the rest of the books I need.”

There was no one to question, no one
to try and get answers from. Searching through books, hoping to
figure out what spell the bad guys were trying to power, seemed
like a futile effort, but what other choice did we have?

I turned my attention back to the
stove and our dinner.

* * * *

We ate sitting in front of the fire on
the floor. It had been no small job sweeping up the living room.
Debris now lay in a pile in the corner.

“
It’s too bad about the
couch.” I looked over at a pile of white stuffing Luke had swept
against the wall.

Luke’s expression turned grim. “Pagan
picked out all the furniture herself for this place. She’s going to
be devastated when she sees what they’ve done to her
house.”

I finished eating and leaned closer to
the fire.

Luke looked over at me. “We should try
and get some sleep.”

“
I’m not tired. If we’re
going to do this banshee binding thing, I’d rather do it now.” I
was sick of waiting. Whatever we had to do I wanted to get it over
with.

Luke put down his bowl and reached
over and threw another log onto the fire. He picked up the black
fire iron and fiddled with the fire for a while before turning back
and asking me, “Are you sure you feel up to trying it
tonight?”

In the past when we’d talked about
creating banshees I’d always argued with him about it. To me
binding spirits was just plain wrong, it seemed like a form of
slavery. Luke had always defended his people’s practice. I could
tell by the way he was looking at me now, he was waiting for me to
argue with him again. I realized I should be fighting with him
about it, but I honestly didn’t feel anger. I didn’t feel anything
at the moment.

“
I’m ready.”

Luke got to his feet and left the
room. When he came back, he was carrying all the things he’d used
when he performed the spell to call on my family’s spirits.
Candles, bowls, a bottle, raven feathers, the Ouija board and
planchette. Around his neck hung the medallion. He walked over to
the table and laid everything out. The Ouija board now sat in the
center of the table and on top of it the planchette. Luke gestured
for me to join him.

I sat down across from him. The last
time we’d used the board something not so pleasant had shown up.
And so had my mother.

Luke lit the candles. He did
everything exactly the way he had the first time, he poured the
contents of the bottle into the bowl, he placed his fingers in the
liquid, closed his eyes and hung onto the medallion. He opened his
eyes, said a few words in Latin and spread his fingers across the
board, smearing the contents of the bowl against the surface of the
polished wood. He wiped his hands on his pants and then reached out
his hands across the table. I placed my hands in his.

“
Now the prayer.” He evoked
the prayer, saying each word slowly, before letting go of my
hands.

I started to place my finger tips on
the pointer.

He raised his hand and stopped me.
“This spell is a little different than the last one we did. We’re
going to call on the dead like we did during the second
ritual.”

“
You’re not going to tie me
to a chair again, or make me wear a funky white dress?” I watched
the candle flames flickering.

He shook his head. “This time you have
more power, but you still don’t have any training in the arts,
which makes you vulnerable, but I’m hoping for a spirit to show up
that you can control.” He lifted the medallion over his head and
handed it to me. “Take this.”

I reached out and took the medallion
from him. The metal felt cool against my skin. I looked down at the
etching--my fingers traced the outline of the phoenix.

“
It’ll help you focus your
abilities. Hold it tight in one hand, and put your other hand on
the planchette.”

I grasped the medallion and reached
out and gently put my fingertips on the pointer.

“
Okay. This time close your
eyes.” He instructed. “I need you to focus your thoughts on the
room. Only think of this room and what you can feel within
it.”

I closed my eyes, but this time I
didn’t feel freaked out. There was no fear racing through
me--instead I felt a deep calmness settle within me.

“
That’s it,” Luke said in a
soft voice. “Focus on the room. See the walls of the room in your
mind.”

I took a deep breath and tried to
imagine the room and as I did I felt the familiar sensation of
something rushing toward me.

“
There’s a spirit here,” I
whispered.

“
Ask for a
name.”

“
Who are you?” I spoke out,
and the pointer started to slide. I opened my eyes and followed its
journey across the board.

It stopped on T, then slid to the
letters H, O, M and A. It finally came to rest on the letter
S.

Thomas. The boy I’d felt the other day
in the kitchen. I looked over at Luke. “It’s Thomas.”

Luke looked pleased. “Good, Good. Now
I want you to reach out to Thomas, with your mind and your
spirit.”

A cold breeze blew across my face--I
tilted my head as a tail end of a whisper floated across my ears. I
concentrated harder and started to make out words within the raspy
whisper. “I can hear him, he’s close by, he’s talking to
me.”

Luke put up his hand. “This time
Colina, I need you to do more than just listen to Thomas. I need
you to focus your thoughts toward him--reach out to him.” He
stopped as if he was trying to find the words. A few second passed
and then he continued. “I need you to imagine the very core of your
being moving forward, making contact…think about that part of you
where your power resides, the center of your being reaching out
toward Thomas.”

I tried to do what Luke asked. I
didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but I tried to focus all my
thoughts, my whole being on Thomas. At first nothing happened. I
could hear the sound of my own heart beating in my ears. A breeze
rustled the drapes in the living room. I had closed all of the
windows, it was Thomas--he was here, I was sure of it. I could hear
his small voice chattering in the distance. I couldn’t quite make
out what he was saying, but he was talking to me.

I thought of Anna in the hospital. I
had seen her spirit standing by the bed. Clear as day, I had made
out the silver thread of life reaching from her sick and weakened
body, to her other self.

I tried to imagine Thomas,
but I had no idea what he looked like--there was no photo to go on.
Before when I saw him in the kitchen he had been a ghostly outline
of a boy. There hadn’t been any distinct shapes or characteristics
on his face, not any I could truly recognize. I closed my eyes
again.
Thomas what do you look
like?
As the thought flew across my mind,
an image started to glitter in the dark. It was the face of a boy.
Suspenders hung from slight shoulders and a brown cap sat tilted at
an angle upon his brown ruffled hair. It was the style of clothing
that I’d only seen in movies. Historical movies.

There was a loud bang and my eyes
popped open in surprise. One of the candles had fallen off the
table and dropped to the floor. Luke quickly got up from his chair
and extinguished the candle flame. An open candle on a wood floor,
a dangerous combination. And suddenly I knew--it hadn’t been a
sickness that had taken the boy's life. Luke was wrong. Thomas had
died in a fire. I saw the flames flickering around the room,
climbing up the walls, rushing across the ceiling. The smell of
smoke was so strong I raised my hand over my nose and mouth. I
looked over at Luke, didn’t he see what I was seeing? I blinked,
and the flames were gone. But I knew I hadn’t imagined them. There
had been a terrible fire here. Not here, in this house, but in a
house that had sat on this very spot a century ago. Thomas’s home.
And Thomas’s image was no longer just in my mind, he was now
standing only a few feet from me. His body was translucent. I could
make out the furniture behind him. He looked at me with a
questioning expression. I didn’t feel any fear, more a strong sense
of curiosity. How long had the boy been bound to this place? Was he
destined to roam the in between forever?

Thomas began to sway, first to one
side and then the other. The image of him flickered in and out in
the candlelight and then before I knew what was happening Thomas
rushed forward. I instinctively raised my hands as if to defend
myself as I felt his spirit crowding in on me.

Luke shouted, “Force the spirit back!
You’re strong now. You have the power!”

I tried to do what Luke said--I tried
to will Thomas spirit back. I could feel the sweat forming on my
forehead as I strained to stay in control.

Luke was by my side, his
hand on my shoulder. “That’s it. Push him back. You’re stronger
than he is.” Luke’s grip tightened. “Now focus all your energy on
Thomas again and quickly repeat these words--
Constringo Constrixi Constrictum.”

I spoke the words out, and a loud
screech filled the air.

Luke’s fingers dug into my flesh.
“Concentrate! Say the words again!”

I spoke them louder this time, and the
screeching intensified.

Thomas spirit swirled around me. Goose
bumps rose on my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood
up. The ungodly screeching was still going on, but now I could hear
Thomas voice in my head, he was shouting out, he was in pain.
Whatever I was doing was causing him pain.

“
Say the words again,” Luke
demanded.

I shook my head. I tried to move back
in my chair, but Luke’s hand moved from my shoulder and came down
hard on my arm. “You can’t stop now. You have to bind Thomas to
you!”

What was I doing? Thomas’s screams
intensified. Things started falling from the nearby shelf as if
someone was tossing items randomly across the room. One of the
bowls on the table suddenly flew and slammed into the nearby wall.
A stereo in the corner turned on and off and then on again, and
this time when it came back on the volume increased. Loud music now
filled the room. The screeching, Thomas’s cries of pain, the music
booming, vibrating through the air--it was all too much. I shook
off Luke’s hand and came to my feet. I had to stop this
madness.

Luke rounded up on me, his expression
one of anger. “You can’t stop now. You’re almost there,” his voice
raised above the music. “You have to trust me, you’re a death
dealer. This is the only way for you to truly wield your power. Do
you want to avenge your family’s death? Colina, this is the only
way.”

Everything I had been through, all of
it would be for nothing if I didn’t do this. Without the banshee
power, I’d be useless by Luke’s side as he went in to save his
sister. When the men came after me again, and I knew that it was
just a matter of time until they did, I would be helpless. My only
option would be to run again. I was tired of running. This power
Luke was offering me was the sole reason I’d showed up at his
doorstep. It would mean I’d finally be able to stand and fight. I’d
be able to defend myself. I’d have a chance to live, and hopefully
one day, see the men who hurt my family pay for what they did. I
didn’t want to do it, but I had no choice, I shouted out the words
again. All the sound stopped. A bright light appeared.

I turned my head toward the
light. Was this part of the binding spell? In the light, I could
see shadows, shapes, human forms. It was if they were standing in
the doorway of a strongly lit room.
There
was a woman--I could feel her presence.
I
could feel a sorrow--a longing for something lost radiating out
from her. And then I heard the voices. There was no more
screeching, no more sounds of pain, these new sounds were words of
comfort and love. It was Thomas’s family. They were standing in the
light, beckoning for Thomas to come and join them. The woman was
his mother--she was desperate for him to come to her. Thomas was
still there in the room--his spirit was only a few feet from me,
flickering in and out. He was facing me, and I realized he didn’t
seem to see the light. He wasn’t reacting to the pleas of his
family--instead he focused only on me.