The Magic Wakes (24 page)

Within the darkness of the trees, everything seemed deceptively calm. Talia found the small clearing quickly. Landry sat on one of many stumps with his back to her, and something in the slackness of his shoulders suggested a weariness she had not seen in him before. She hesitated, unsure if he would welcome an interruption. He swiveled around on the stump and faced her.

“It’s all right, you aren’t bothering me. I’ve probably been alone too long anyway.” A deep sorrow emanated from him, and his voice fell like lead drops on the ground.

Crossing the distance, Talia sat on another stump close to him. The light grew dimmer, but she could still see his face. He looked tired and some of the fire in his eyes had gone out. It startled her how much she wanted to reach out and hold him like a hurt child. But he was a man. One who had always been strong, confident, and unshakable.

“What happened?”

The reality of their situation sat like a third person in the clearing. There were creatures out there killing people without giving it a second thought. Talia realized he might have had family in the city, and she never even asked. Just because she felt safe in the forest did not mean the world was a peaceful place. The Dragumon would slaughter everyone they found, and she needed this man to help her put a stop to it. She moved to his side and took his hands in hers.

Mentally she pushed her way into his mind, and when he resisted she pushed harder,
I want to help. You listened to me, now let me return the favor.

Landry sighed, but his walls crumbled. A familiar pain washed over her. She remembered the image of the small boy watching his father die. Those same emotions moved through Landry now.

Talia, do you know who my cousin is?

No. Is that important?

A new image entered her mind, Prince Stefan Romero Sandoval, standing on one of the palace balconies. Time flew backward and she saw two boys running through the palace hallways. The young prince and Landry, a few years after his father died.

The prince is your cousin?
Talia leaned back and searched Landry’s face for a family resemblance. She never thought he might be royalty, although his linage explained his confidence with command.

Yes, my mother was the king’s sister, Ellyor. Stefan is no longer the prince of Sendek, he is now King. Shortly after the Dragumon attacked, King Frederick passed away. He was like a father to me. It’s like being orphaned all over again
.

Talia knew what he meant. She remembered when her brother Roan died. As hard as it had been to lose her parents, his death was worse because it left her utterly alone. It was as if the loss ripped out her soul, leaving her numb and scared to love again. Time healed the wound, but Landry’s loss sliced it back open.

Talia fought to gain control over herself. She knew what they both needed.

Landry, come with me.

Getting to her feet, she pulled Landry to his and led him back into the trees. Keeping Landry’s hands in hers, she let his emotions wash over her—mingling with her memories. Using the raw power from those feelings, she pushed them out and the trees put the pain to song.

The sound started low, more of a moaning hum than a note. But it expanded to fill the space between the trees. There were no words, no particular rhythm or pattern to the melody. Its very cadence, naturally wild and free, built slowly as the trees matched the sorrowful tune with the grief in Landry’s heart.

He closed his eyes and let the song engulf him. He needed to feel the pain, and then move on. When he reached the brink of depression, Talia asked the trees to change the direction of the song. She led them through happier images from Landry’s memory.

His father sweeping him off his feet and spinning him in the air. A picture of his mother. Skipping classes to hang out with Stefan.

She brought them to the forefront of his mind and the trees put voice to them. The tempo picked up and all the voices ascended. The sound swirled around them. Talia reached outward until she found a moth flying high above.

Pulling from the tiny life, she wrapped the feeling of flight around Landry so he could feel the lifting power. They breathed in unison until the moment Landry let go of his loss.

The trees dropped out and sent a warning shock wave through them. Talia gasped and Landry moved to shield her from the approaching danger.

“Someone’s here. . .”

“I am here. That was impressive. It gives me hope that I will not have to teach you as much as I thought. You have been gone a long time. Perhaps you have forgotten we are at war?” Jaron turned and walked back to the shuttle without waiting to see if they would follow.

“We won’t have time to test everyone in depth tomorrow, but I want to know the extent of your abilities.” Jaron placed two wooden boxes and a candle on the gleaming black table.

The boxes looked ancient. They had delicately carved designs on the sides. One showed a garden scene of plants, vines, and winding paths leading to a square building in the center. The swirls on the second one reminded Talia of waves. The candle base shimmered with carved flames.

Two worlds. Glittering technology surrounded them, but the boxes were heavy with magical history. Talia was drawn to the boxes as if they had their own gravity. They called to her, beckoned her to explore the possibilities.

Jaron sat down and pressed his hands together. “Landry, open the garden box.”

Landry reached out, and lifted the lid of the box. Talia leaned forward to see it filled half full with rich brown earth. It looked fine and soft, and Talia immediately wanted to run her fingers through it. Even her toes wiggled in her shoes as she imagined sinking into dirt so soft.

“Now, hold both hands in front of you, palms up.” Jaron intoned and Landry obeyed.

Jaron placed his palm above one of Landry’s, closed his eyes and hummed. It wasn’t a tune, but a soft low sound that reminded Talia of a cat she had found in the forest years ago. Without opening his eyes, Jaron scooped up some dirt and poured it into Landry’s other palm.

Landry’s brow furrowed as he glanced from the dirt to Jaron. After a few moments, Jaron frowned, opened his eyes and turned to Talia.

“Your turn.”

Landry dumped the soil into the box and dusted his hands over it while Talia leaned in with palms up. When Jaron placed his palm above hers, prickly warmth moved through it. She closed her eyes too.

As the dirt trickled into her palm, Talia’s entire body relaxed and a sigh escaped. The receptors in her skin registered every particle as they piled up in her hand, warm and full of energy.

“You may pour it back into the box now.” Jaron spoke softly.

Talia jumped. “Oh. Right.” The dirt slid from her palm into the container.

Jaron nodded to Landry who replaced the latch and opened the second box. It contained water. This time they held one hand over the box and Jaron conducted a similar test in relative silence. He never explained himself or what he hoped to learn.

Three more tests and Talia’s eyelids felt like sandpaper every time she blinked. She had long since stopped fidgeting in her seat, and now slumped in it instead.

Jaron put the boxes away. “Now that I know your strengths we can begin.”

“Our strengths? How can you—” Landry fell silent as Jaron cut him off.

“The tests are ancient, and always correct. You are a conduit or transferor. When you touch another mage, you can access their abilities to use as your own, or magnify their power as they use magic.”

“And me?” Even her voice came out slow.

“You are rooted deep in nature. Its energy flows through you in a way I’ve never seen though.”

“Great. How is my ability to talk to trees going to stop the Dragumon? Am I going to talk them to death?” she scowled.

“Perhaps.” Jaron said.

Talia blew out a huff of air and shook her head. He couldn’t be serious. And yet he looked at her steadily, as straight-faced as ever. Talia had a sudden urge to stick her tongue out at him. Before she could act, Landry took her hand in his.

Easy. You’re just tired.
Then out loud, “Jaron, neither of us understand how our abilities will help.”

“Be patient, your powers are the ones we will need the most. I hope there are others with your abilities, more magnifiers. We will spread you out among the others to boost the magical power we need for the unbinding. Let’s start with our first lesson.”

“We need sleep or we won’t be able to remember anything you teach us.” Landry stood up and nodded to Talia. Jaron followed the look and nodded his head.

“You’re right. We’ll stop now, but we begin first thing in the morning. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you a renewal spell so you will not need as much rest.” With that said, Jaron stalked off to his sleeping quarters leaving them alone at the table.

“Well, he could at least point us in the direction of somewhere to sleep.” Landry helped Talia to her feet. “This ship doesn’t look like it has any other quarters. Where do you want to rest?”

“It’s warm outside. I think I would like to sleep somewhere out there. It’ll be easier to watch the sunsrise that way.”

“Can I come with you?” His voice was hesitant.

Warmth rushed through Talia. “Yes.”

Once again silence settled around them. Talia’s stomach fluttered strangely and she couldn’t look into Landry’s face without blushing. They left the shuttle and looked for a soft spot of grass.

“This looks as good as it gets.” Talia fought back the urge to giggle, exhaustion clouding her mind.

“Wait here, I think I saw some blankets on the ship.” Landry rushed off and returned within minutes with two thin sheets of mylar and a pillow. “I found a pillow, here you go.” He handed the pillow and one of the sheets to Talia.

“It’s a large pillow if you want to share it.” The words tumbled out before she thought about them. Grateful for the darkness, she hoped Landry couldn’t hear her heart pounding. He stood close enough that Talia could feel the heat from his body. If he tried to look inside her mind it would be easy.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Landry spread one sheet on the ground and placed the pillow in the middle. He paused a moment before laying down on one side and waited for Talia to join him. Her heart and mind battled each other. Habit paralyzed her. Told her to run. But he also made her feel safe.

She lay down beside him, spreading the second sheet over both of them. The crinkle of the thin blanket echoed the feeling running through Talia. She stared at the stars shining through the leaves of the tree, holding her breath. Her body was aware of the length of him just inches away. Strong. Firm. He held his breath too.

Talia turned toward Landry and rested her hand on his chest. That simple movement eased the tension, and they both relaxed.

Now that the Dragumon are a reality, what will I dream about?

Landry moved his arm and Talia moved closer, resting her head on his chest. It was surprisingly natural and calming at the same time it sent a thrill through her body.

You can dream of a happier future. One where we’ve defeated the Dragumon.

She listened to his words, but the undercurrent of things not said filled her mind. The fact he needed her earlier meant a great deal to both of them, and although neither was ready to admit more, the potential permeated the air around them.