Soulstice (The Souled Series) (5 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Sinking deeper in the seat and pushing my sunglasses
snug against my face completed the invisibility factor for me. I’d gone into hiding until I completely split open the skin of my old self and peeled it away to let the raw, new skin heal.

I drove down Oak Street, looking for a particular garage sale.
I’d already scored some cool stuff earlier in the day – leggings, jackets, and scarves – all in my new favorite color of black. The clothes were more worn in and comfortable than the clothes I bought online. The prize find for the day was a camo backpack. I wasn’t sure what I would use it for, but it was such a steal, I couldn’t resist. Ha! Miss Popular turned Dark, toting around a camo backpack. Only in Idaho.

I double checked the ad I circl
ed in the newspaper. It said it was an estate sale. Apart from the creepiness of picking through a dead person’s belongings, you could usually find some cool and unusual things.

C
ars prowled the overcrowded street, the drivers rubber-necking as they eyed the layout of the yard. There was so much stuff. The owner probably never threw anything away.

I pulled my car into a spot
just as another car left, and turned the motor off.

“
Sorry,” I said to my car, patting the dashboard. “One last stop.”

Tables had been
placed on the driveway and in the garage. The first table had all sorts of shoes on it. I needed a couple more pairs of flats, which was exactly what the owner had a lot of. The shoes were a half size bigger than I wore, but I’d make it work.

The table next to
the shoes was weighed down with books. Lots of old books. My kind of books. Judging from the collection, the former lady of the house was up there in age. Scattered among the stacks of literary classics were books protected by fabric covers. I counted 18 of them, the titles covering subjects of numerology, tarot, occult, metaphysics, and magic. Notes in small, meticulous handwriting crowded the margins of the pages. Phrases that meant something to the reader were underscored. Over half the books were reprints of work published in the mid-1930s. Some things in this universe were timeless.

One book in particular was far more commanding than the others.
It was big and heavy. The print on the ornate cover was in a heavy script, so it was difficult to read, but I was able to make out the last line.
Ancient Mysteries and Secret Societies.

The book was
typeset in small print, as if someone wanted to shove hundreds of years’ worth of Earth-old knowledge within the covers. Spread across the pages of proper English were passages describing Atlantis, sorcery, hidden magic, rituals, symbols and drawings, and old hieroglyphic-type images dotted each page.

My breath caught and fierce tingling
ran the length of my spine, burst outward to my arms and neck, and out through my fingers. Something about this book was either very right or very wrong.

Across the yard a young woman was taking cash from
another customer. I waved her over.

“
Wow!” the woman said, when she got to my side. “Looks like you and my grandmother have something in common.”

“
She has a great collection.” I said, being sure to keep my voice low. “Two dollars each, right?” I couldn’t believe they were dumping them for that price.

She nodded.

“Here you go,” I said, handing her two twenty-dollar bills. “Can you lend me a hand with these?” I asked. I couldn’t wait to take a closer look. This was such an amazing find, my entire body still buzzed. Mom was going to flip out. I looked around the yard one more time. As far as I was concerned, I needed nothing more.              

CHAPTER
TEN

“
Fire is your element, Alyx.” Mom carefully set up a candle on the floor between us. “You’ll learn to harness its energy easier than you will the other energies. We’ll tap into it a little today.”

Po
uring over my new books had me fired up and ready to get on with the next step, and Mom was more than happy to start teaching me again. As I sat across from her, though, with matches and a candle between us, the memories of Illinois crushed any sense of curiosity and willingness to open up. I was about to face my demon in every sense of the word – and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Not anymore.

Mom pulled a match from the box and slid it shut.
She paused with the tip poised over the striking surface and raised her brows.

“
Ready?”

I nodded,
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” But even as I said the words, I doubted them. I had enough trouble keeping away the visions of our house burning down without the added fear of having the same situation reenacted in my room. Mom thought it would help with the healing process. I wasn’t so sure about that.

She
lit the candle.

My breath
and pulse quickened as fast as it did six years ago when I did the same ritual in my room in Illinois, without the slightest idea of what I was doing. All I knew then was that I wanted my parents not to fight.

I
t was the same ceremony I saw my mom do so many times after they fought. I thought if I did it right, if I said the words to make the flame rise like Mom did, that when Dad came home, everything would be fine. I’d been so careful. Putting the candle on the windowsill seemed like a good idea at the time. And it would have been – had the flame stood still instead of thrashing around, had I been able to control it, had it not expanded the way it did, had the tip not touched the curtains…

“
Alyx.” A crease in her brow marred Mom’s usually calm features.

I couldn
’t tell if she was angry or concerned. Was she thinking about that night, too? I’d sworn to her that it wasn’t intentional, that I was just trying to help. If only they hadn’t fought so much. If only Dad had stayed away instead of passing out in the den that night. If only he’d driven home instead of walking, then we would have seen his car. But we had no idea he was inside the house. We had escaped, leaving him in the den to die.

“
Alyx, come back to me.”

I dragged my gaze from the candle and followed her comforting voice
to where the light reflected in her eyes.

“
It’ll be okay. You can do this,” she said.

The candle flickered
its challenge.

“
Yeah.” I wiped my sweaty palms over my skirt. “I can do this.” The small fire extinguisher next to me was my safety net.

Mom reached over and squeezed my hand before holding her
palm next to mine. Almost instantaneously a stream of heat connected the center of our palms and bound them together. My fingers curled in response and our hands caged a palpable ball of energy.

The flame
between our hands crackled and expanded, but I didn’t back down. I found strength in the force that we held in our palms.

“
I’m going to move my fingers over the wick. Let’s keep the ball’s shape… like this.”

Mo
m rotated her hand over the unwavering tentacle of fire. The tip dipped under each finger, popping up in between, as she slowly turned her wrist. I was afraid to breathe as she repeated the movement the other way, until our hands returned to their original position.

“
Your turn,” she said quietly.

“
I can do this,” I said again. I didn’t know who I was trying to convince.

“
You don’t believe you can, do you?”

“
Of course I do,” I said, my eyes never leaving the flame.
Of course I do.
Those words again. “I can do this,” I whispered. I started the motion of turning my hand and had every intention of going through with it, but when the skin on my pinky finger went from warm to hot, I backed off.

Mom moved her hand with mine,
keeping the energy ball firmly between us, making it impossible to break the bond.

“
It’s a matter of getting on the same frequency as the element you are trying to manipulate or become one with,” she said. “Each element has its own vibration. If you aren’t connecting on the same level, then, in this case, the fire will scorch you. You need true intent and commitment.” She waited until she was certain I was listening. “Trust that the fire will not burn you. That knowledge is inside you already, Alyx. Reach for it.”

The space behind my right eye puls
ed a few beats, sort of like someone tapping on my brain, telling me to focus. There was a presence, or awareness, pushing me from under and behind, swelling up like a wave. I shook it off. If I didn’t have the confidence to back it up, this whole experience would be a total failure and I would definitely get burned.

“
Keep trying.” Mom said.

“
There’s a conflict somewhere in here.” I pulled my hand away, breaking the connection with Mom. I tapped a finger to my forehead. “Something in here is pushing me to keep going, but I’m definitely fighting it.” I filled my lungs with as much air as they would hold and then let it out. “I need to get through these blocks before I do this again.”

She bit her lip and held her gaze to mine.
Then said, “Of course. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

We gathered th
e candle and matches and placed them in a basket. She leaned over and kissed my forehead and without a word, picked everything up and left me to figure this out on my own.

CHA
PTER ELEVEN

“
May I help you find something?”

My
first step inside Inquire Within bookstore was undeniably comfortable. Maybe “familiar” would better describe it. Books lined the wall to my left. Candles and incense to my right infused the air with their sweet and spicy fragrances. In the back of the store a handful of people had their chairs in a circle, where a book discussion was being held. Even with no one else in the shop to disturb them, the readers’ low voices respected the peacefulness this shop seemed to ask for.

The
scent of sandalwood, jasmine, and lavender tickled my nose. Crystals hanging in a glass case reflected the tiny lights above them. Past the wind chimes, just beyond a shelf of books, stood a case displaying Native American jewelry made by Earth Magic people – those who trusted the elements and worked with, not against, them.

Everything in this shop
touched the chords of my nature. I’m not sure how I’d been able to deny who I was for as long as I did. Powerful chills raked my arms. Rubbing my hands against them seemed to make it worse, as if spirits were angry for being ignored for so long.

Alma, the owner
, walked down the two steps leading to the main shop area. My mom mentioned her many times to me. Alma opened this place because she wanted Sandpoint to have access to books about the metaphysical and spiritual world. People were naturally drawn to the area, seeking answers to their life’s questions. And Alma had them, or she knew someone who did.

“
I’m just looking around,” I said.

“
Have you been here before?” Alma asked.

“
No,” I shook my head.

“
Well, if you need anything in particular, let me know. There are more books in the back,” she said gesturing behind her. She turned to the other side of the room and pointed. “We have a few new items in that corner. And here I have some wonderful bundles of sage and lavender from a local woman.”

I breathed it all in
. “I’m just going to look around a little.”

Alma
smiled again and nodded, walked toward the back room, and disappeared around the corner.

Actually there
was
something I wanted to learn about. Against the back wall, about halfway down, I found several books on Earth magic. I slid two from their places on the shelf and tucked them under my arm. On the way to the counter, I grabbed a box of oracle cards.

“
Excuse me,” I said.

Alma quickly got up and rounded the corner to
the counter.

“
Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked.

“
Yeah, I did.” I pushed the cards and books toward her. “Who can I see about clearing and moving energy?” I asked her.

“
Like chakras or attachments?”

“
Blocks,” I said. “Life issues. I have some stuff I’m ready to let go, but I don’t know how.”

From beneath the counter she pulled out a
Rolodex and flipped through the cards. She found the name she was looking for and wrote it on a piece of paper.

“
Call him,” she said, handing me the card. “His name is Shawn. He knows a lot about clearing and healing. That would be a good place to start.” As she rang up the sale, she said, “You know, Solstice is the perfect time to set new intentions for yourself. It’s a day to punctuate closure in some areas of your life, and also to celebrate the awakening of others.” She shrugged. “Just something to think about.”

Solstice.
New beginnings. New me. It made a lot of sense. Returning her smile, I paid for the book and cards, then walked away, knowing I was about to do something I should have done a long time ago.