Shattered Souls (3 page)

But it was too late. My body crashed to the floor, sending spikes of pain down my spine as my head cracked against the floor, turning my world to darkness.

Chapter 3

“She’s coming to,” Logan
said. I felt his fingers running along my forehead. The strong smell of pine and rosemary saturated my nostrils.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Aunt Vieta
said.

A light tickle traced my
cheeks as Logan removed the handkerchief containing the essential oils that had been draped over my nose and mouth. My eyelids fluttered as I attempted to open my eyes and adjust to the light surrounding me. Logan was sitting next to me, leaning over my body, but his figure was blurry. I could see two others standing behind him. They were in front of the fireplace. Logan must have carried me into the family room.

“What happened?” I asked
. My voice was hoarse, and my throat sore as I attempted to clear it, but it didn’t help. Everything felt strained.

“I was hoping you’d be able
to tell us that,” Logan replied. He sounded exhausted.

“How long have I been ou
t?” I asked, ignoring the pain in my throat.

One of the figures stepped forward
and leaned over. It was Aunt Vieta. My vision became less blurry and I scanned the person next to her.

“Mom?” I whispered
, seeing my mom’s soft features.

Comfort wrapped around me
just knowing she was close. But then panic set in.

“Triss, what’s wrong?” Logan asked, bringing his hands to mine.

“Its… I...” Closing my eyes, I let the earlier sound of the voice run through me. It had been my father, but that wasn’t possible. I sat up quickly and a wave of nausea hit me. Logan slid me against the armrest of the couch as I attempted to flush the sickness away.

“
Is it me?” my mom asked, with hurt filling every syllable.

“No. I just don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what happened.” I also knew what I couldn’t say, not now anyway. I had to talk to Logan, alone. “I blacked out or something.”

Aunt Vieta and my mom traded nervous looks.

“Logan said you hit your head pretty hard in the pantry,” my mom began.

I nodded. “I was reaching for tortillas and must have fallen.”

“You don’t remember?” my aunt questioned, narrowing her eyes.

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure it was just my clumsy self.
How long have I been out?” I asked again. Hollowness sank into my chest as I realized what might be in store for me.

“Triss?” my aunt started.

Logan briefly locked his eyes on mine and tilted his head as if to acknowledge my plea to stop the questioning.

“
Is the enchilada sauce okay?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“It is. I turned it off.” Logan smiled at me
. “Veronica, maybe you two could go get it going again.” He turned to look at my mom.

“We have enough for everyone,” I offered. “
You guys don’t have to do it but maybe if someone could help me finish.”

“Absolutely not. You’re
going to rest,” my mom said. “Vieta and I can take over.”

Logan stood up, allowing my mom to slide onto the couch next to me. She gave me a long hug and tapped my back softly with her fingers.
“If you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, mom. I appreciate it.”

Her hair was piled in a loose bun with two golden sticks poking out. And her eyes held a bit of that spark I grew up with. She really was getting close to her old self again. My mom hopped up and made her way to the kitchen, silently, with my aunt right behind her.

When I was sure they couldn’t hear, I motioned for Logan to sit next to me.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I paused, biting my lip, wondering how to ask what I wanted to ask without sounding crazy.

“You can tell me anything,” he whispered. I felt him watching me, connecting with me in the way that only he could.

I brought my eyes to meet his
, and I was shocked at the intensity we shared with only a glance.

“The pantry turned into... not a pantry.” I crossed my arms in front of me
, and Logan slowly brought his hands to my arms and uncrossed them.

“You don’t have to be in your defensive mode with me around,” he said.

“Sorry. It’s a bad habit. I’m just so confused with what I saw, or didn’t see,” I said.

He sat thoughtfully for a moment, holding my hands in his. A smile came to his lips before he finally spoke. “Do you maybe want to elaborate a little?”

“How about I show you.” I closed my eyes and thought back to the dark, empty space that I was trapped in, flushing the images and thoughts to Logan through our
nectunt
. In doing so, feelings of helplessness washed through me. The absolute inability to know what I experienced was channeled to Logan, hoping he could see what I couldn’t.

“You saw all of that?” he asked.

“Saw all of what?” I asked confused. As far as I remembered, I saw a whole lot of nothing.

“Do you remember what you were thinking about right before this happened?” he questioned.

“My mom. I was thinking about how good it would be to have her back. How I missed her. I was allowing feelings to finally run through me that I’d been ignoring for months.”

“And the voice. You recognized it, right?” Logan asked.
He confirmed my suspicions.

“My father.”

I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “Does that mean he can communicate with me from the underworld?”

“Or you with him. I’m curious about what started it.”

“My pendant warmed before it happened. I couldn’t do much communicating. I was pretty much frozen and the space, it was like nothing I’ve felt before. It was complete desolation, just empty.” I looked behind Logan where the flames were dancing freely in the fireplace, but my palms began to get warm. “I think it’s time that I reach out. The worst that happens is that I’m called crazy, right?”

Logan grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Can you hand me that piece of paper that’s sticking out of the green book?” I pointed to the stack of books near the chair. “So for the last time, how long was I out?”

“
Over three hours.” He got off the couch and tugged on the piece of paper and brought it over to me.

“Not what I expected to hear.
”

“I don’t think you hitting your head ha
d anything to do with falling unconscious. You were on your way out before that happened. At least that’s what I’m guessing.”

“I agree. My body
started to shut down before the fall.” I scanned the piece of paper, knowing some of the answers I needed were on it. I just didn’t know how to decipher them yet. But I knew that there were practitioners out there who did.

i.

Scriptoriums

Portals

Ruinations

Guardians

Colligeres

Tempestas

ii.

Dominium Defensors

Realitatem Falsarium

Adflictas
Regnum

“There is an incantation
I’ve heard about that allows us to tap into those who’ve been placed between here and there. It’s pretty dark, but I can work on it so you can speak to him again,” Logan whispered. He walked over to sit next to me, his eyes boring through me, waiting for me to acknowledge him. “ Your father—”

I shook my head
, interrupting him. “It won’t be necessary. There are other ways, and I’m not certain that’s what needs to be done. I think that…” I looked away quickly realizing the darkness had returned to his eyes. Fear began stirring deep within me as I worried that the pull to the dark side was enticing Logan once again.

“What’s on your mind, Triss? I
can tell you’re thinking about something,” his voice solemn.

I shook my head.
“I wanted to believe that I was hallucinating, but I don’t think I was. I need to talk to someone. I wasn’t in that pantry. I was somewhere else, at least temporarily, and I need to know where that somewhere else might have been.” My eyes connected with Logan’s. “I need to talk to an expert.”

My aunt shuffled back into the family room, looking
drained. She took a seat in the overstuffed chair, yanking on the lamp chain turning off the light. Her foot tapped the stack of books, and the top one tumbled to the ground. “Sorry.” She picked it up and glanced at the cover. “Finding anything good?”

“More than before,” I answered, flashing a look to Logan. Now was the time to bring up
my questions with my aunt. “Do you know much about the
Colligeres
or…”

“Plenty,” she interrupted, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.
“Why?”

“I found a list and that was on it, among other things.”

“They’re the collectors of information,” Aunt Vieta said.

My mom walked into the
family room, holding two cups. She walked over to me and handed me one of the cups that was full of tea, and she trundled over to sit on an oversized pillow by the fire. That always used to be one of her favorite places to relax. My mom was finally remembering how to exist as herself. “The
Colligeres
? What are you up to?” she asked in her motherly tone.

My God
, there was so much she didn’t know about me, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to keep it that way.

“I need to make sure what I experienced in the pantry was nothing more than a hallucination.”

“And what is it that you experienced, my dear?” Aunt Vieta asked, frowning.

“Her father spoke to her
,” Logan answered, looking directly into my Aunt’s eyes.

“Did you see him?” my mom asked, her fingers trembling as she placed the cup on the ground.

“No. I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anything.” The heat in my palms was excruciating. I needed to release, but I wasn’t sure what brought it on. I had come so close to controlling this ‘gift’. I didn’t understand the sudden setback.

“How so?”
Aunt Vieta asked.

“There was nothing to see.
Everything was dark.” I expected them to dismiss my statements or confirm that it was nothing more than hallucinations, but they did nothing of the sort. My mom jumped up from the pillow, nearly spilling her tea, and ran to my side.

“You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?” she questioned Logan who quickly shook his head.

“It’s not something to mess with,” Aunt Vieta confirmed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Logan replied
, anger biting his words. “I’d never open up those gates without someone knowing. Ever.”

“Why would you think that?” I demanded.

“I just had to check,” my mom said, half apologetically. She kneeled next to me and grabbed my hand, which felt as if it was on fire now and her touch only made it worse. I felt the tiny droplets of sweat begin to form at my hairline. “If you have this ability, it’s something that can help guide. Very few can communicate with the dead without—”

“Trying,” my aunt concluded, noticing the dampness on my forehead.
“And it doesn’t sound like you tried to do so.”

Now would have been the perfect opportunity to
discuss the fact that this seemed to be one of many “special abilities”, but I didn’t have it in me. It would lead directly to me confiding that I was a
Trifecta
witch, and undoubtedly the
Divinus
witch, and I wasn’t ready to expose that. Truthfully, my mother wasn’t ready to cope with it either.

“I think it’s time for you to speak with
Madeline,” Aunt Vieta said, glancing at my mom.

“Yes. I think it’s time,” my mom acknowledged. She folded her hands in her lap and l
ooked out the window. “I hoped you’d never have to be exposed to these things.”

Her voice was we
aker than it had been all night, and it told me our hunch to keep her out of things, at least for now, was the right thought.

“Madeline?” I asked.

“She’s someone who will be able to train you to deal with this special skill,” Aunt Vieta said, pressing her lips together. My aunt was aware of the other skills that I had already developed, but I could tell she, too, was keeping them quiet from my mother. “She’s a sole practitioner.”

Things were falling into place.

“And where can she be found?” I asked my aunt but was surprised when Logan answered.

“The undercity. It’s where a lot of the sole practitioners hide out.
It’s safer for them,” Logan said quietly, catching my gaze. “Safer for everyone.”