Hex You, page 12
She could be free.
A lightness filled her stomach, a balloon swelling with helium, floating up, up, up until she was standing, only tethered to the ground by the shoes on her feet.
“I can leave,” she said to the room, to the house, to her god. “I can start over. Go to Chicago. I can do…” She pressed her palm over her heart to keep it from beating out of her chest. “I can do whatever I want. I can go wherever I want.”
She darted to the maple desk that sat under the picture window and dropped onto her chair. Switching on the full moon lamp Mercy had given her last Yule, Hunter opened the top drawer, wiggling it a bit so the old, warped wood wouldn’t wedge itself into an impossible-to-close position. An oversized pad of lined neon-pink Post-its sat on top of a stack of completed journals. She picked up the notepad, her fingers sweeping over the top journal, silver crescents pressed into a glittering silver cover. This journal, just like the four beneath, was full, every page covered in ink. But she still had yet to complete her manuscript. She had barely thought about it, much less worked on it, since her mother died.
“That’s what I’ll do.” Again, she spoke to forces bigger than herself. “I’ll find a coffee shop in Chicago and finally finish my book.”
Stomach warm and filled with joy, she closed the drawer and chose a silver metallic pen the same color as moonlight on water from the holder on her desk. She would get to work planning the rest of her life as soon as she took care of the present, or, at least, the very near future.
heal the gates
stop the trail of goo creature
fix help Kylie/tell the truth/undo the spell
identify the trail of goo creature
She chewed on the end of her pen and studied the list, the metallic ink glinting in the light. It was out of order, and a disorganized list was as bad as no list at all.
identify the trail of goo creature
help Kylie/tell the truth/undo the spell
stop the trail of goo creature
heal the gates
leave Goodeville and start my life
“There.” She capped her pen. The satisfaction of having created a succinct tally of to-dos faded as quickly as it had come. The items, while challenging, weren’t completely undoable. She could achieve them. She would achieve them. She had to achieve them. But a part of her didn’t want to. Well, not all of them, anyway. There was one she wished she could leave for another time—a high school reunion when a decade had passed and the stresses of life outside of Goodeville High made the past feel like a dream.
Maybe the spell will wear off by then. Maybe Kylie will forgive me. Maybe—
A soft tink tink tink against the window drew her attention.
The brown wings of a moth beat against the glass, its fuzzy body tapping the pane, drawn by the yellowish glow of lamplight. It had been pulled to this place, this house, to Hunter, who had switched on the moon light and forever changed the insect’s life.
Tink tink.
Hunter had done the same to Kylie—created a new moon for her to follow.
Tink tink tink.
If Hunter left without turning off the light, Kylie, like this moth, would stay in one place, wings fluttering, desperately trying to reach something she could never attain.
Hunter switched off the lamp, and the gentle taps against the glass faded as the insect adjusted and, guided by the light of its true moon, flew up and away from the house.
Her hand drifted to her pendant, her fingertips drawing slow circles against the smooth stone. Tyr had come back to her. Jax had accepted her apology. Mercy had forgiven her. It might be too much to expect Kylie to do the same, but no matter the outcome, Hunter had to do the right thing. She couldn’t live with herself in Goodeville or Chicago if she didn’t.
She would do it tomorrow. Before then, she would cross off number one.
Hunter went to her pillow, a firm lump at the head of her bed, and slid her hand under the cool fabric until her fingers reached the blue velvet pouch that held her tarot deck. She removed the satchel and poured her cards onto her comforter. Their silver backs seemed to shimmer, reflecting the same phase of the moon beaming down through the cloudy sky. She swept her cards into a neat pile and closed her eyes. She’d spent sleepless nights consulting her tarot. No matter how drained or exhausted she was, the messages from her cards always came through clearly. Well, as clear and direct as tarot cards could be. There was always room for interpretation. Always room for human mistakes.
Hunter settled her right palm against the deck.
Reveal yourself, reveal yourself, reveal yourself. She inwardly repeated her intention until it was all she could hear.
“Reveal yourself!” she commanded.
But there were no sparks of energy or flashes of power fizzling against her skin.
“Reveal yourself!” she repeated.
Again, no magic tingled against her fingertips.
She rolled her amulet between her left fingers as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Even though she couldn’t feel it, her magic had to still be there, resting in the depths. If she could only reach it.
Hunter filled her lungs and focused on diving within herself to find the power that coursed through her veins.
Reveal yourself.
She flipped the top card and set it faceup next to the deck. The milky white that had once been a placeholder, a circle of swirling colors until a picture loaded, clear as day, remained cloudy.
Hunter bit the inside of her cheek, closed her eyes, and tried again.
The threads of power like extensions of her veins, her nerves, her very being had vanished. She felt nothing from her tarot. Her eyelids fluttered open as she pressed her fingers to her pendant. It was cool against her skin, not warm or thrumming with power, her power.
She picked up the card and squinted at the foggy rectangle.
She was tired. That was all. She tilted her head. Or maybe this was the answer.
Tarot card in hand, Hunter rounded her bed and slowly and quietly opened her door. Her ponytail swung listlessly as she leaned out and peered down the hall at her sister’s room. The shadow darkening the thin strip of empty space between the bottom of her door and the wood floor told Hunter exactly what she needed to know. She charged toward the stairs, a sudden burst of laughter reaching her as she neared the bottom.
“H!” Mercy chimed, her cheeks round with giggles.
Khenti hid his final bits of laughter with a cough as he looked up at Hunter, the bright screen of the open laptop reflecting in his brown eyes. “Were we too loud? I’m afraid my technological difficulties have led to much amusement.”
Heat crept up Hunter’s neck. She felt like she’d walked in on something private. Sure, Mercy and Khenti weren’t touching, but touching wasn’t always the first step in making a true connection. “No, you two are fine. I just—” She handed the card to Mercy, grimacing at the streaks her sweaty grip left behind. “I wanted to show you this.”
Her sister and Khenti huddled around the card, squinting the same way Hunter had when the foggy gray image ceased churning, offering the unreadable haze as answer to her question.
“I know I need to rest. I mean, that’s clear from the card, but I wanted to try and give us a head start.” Hunter stuffed her clammy hands into her pockets. This had been a terrible idea. She should have waited, asked again after a good night’s sleep, instead of stampeding downstairs to flaunt her failings. They were depending on her. This was the absolute best way to get an insight on what plagued Goodeville. After all, it had worked before.
“What is it?” Mercy asked, her brow knitting.
“My tarot. I’m a little disconnected right now.” Hunter stroked the end of her ponytail, which hung like a security blanket over her shoulder. “I just wanted you to see that I’m working on getting an answer about whatever’s come through the Japanese Gate.”
They need me, and I’m useless.
She took the card from Mercy and stared down at the milky white. “I’ll try again in the morning.”
Mercy and Khenti exchanged a glance, further proof of their deepening connection. Carefully, he turned the laptop to face Hunter. “We have found possibilities.”
Mag clasped her hands and nodded, straightening as if ready to deliver a speech. “We’re compiling a list.”
“Oh.” Hunter tucked the card into her back pocket.
They don’t need me.
“Guess you’ve gotten really good at researching,” she said, jealousy twisting in her gut.
“Learned from the best.” Mercy winked, an overdramatized motion that would have made Hunter laugh had she not felt so defeated.
Khenti spun the computer back around and resumed working, poking at the keyboard as if his index fingers were two sticks. “Your Google is a powerful sorcerer.”
“Search engine,” Mercy corrected, leaning into him.
He nodded. “Yes, and its magic is the only kind we require.”
“Rest, H,” Mercy said, the corners of her bright eyes creasing with a smile. “Khenti and I have all the facts. We’ll cross off possibilities until there’s only one left. It won’t take us long to figure out exactly what’s come through the gate.”
“You don’t need me,” Hunter murmured, but Mercy and Khenti were laughing again, pointing at the screen and whispering to each other.
They don’t need me. I can leave, and everything will be fine.
The balloon filled again, carrying her up the stairs and back to her room. She had an item of her own to cross off.
SEVENTEEN
Mercy had set her alarm to go off early the next morning, and even though she was tempted to pull the covers over her head and go back to sleep for that extra hour, she didn’t. She actually liked research, and she and Khenti had been onto something the night before, until they were both so exhausted that they had to go to bed.
She dressed quickly in her favorite pair of hand-embroidered jeans, a fringed belt, and a V-necked tee that was the same color as her turquoise-blue eyes. Instead of fighting with her hair to act right, Mercy pulled it back in a high ponytail that was more Hunter’s style than hers, hurriedly lined her eyes, and brushed on mascara, some lip gloss, and then carried her boots with her as she made her way quietly down the creaky staircase.
Khenti’s broad back was the first thing she noticed as she turned the corner to the kitchen and the coffee brewer waiting there to finish waking her.
“Hey, you haven’t been researching all night, have you?” Mercy asked as she entered the kitchen nook on silent socked feet.
Khenti jumped from the chair and whirled around, automatically crouching in a defensive stance as he raised his hand to summon his khopesh. Then he blew out a long breath and ran a hand over his face. “Mercy! You startled me.”
“Sorry.” Mercy lifted her boots. “I was being quiet on purpose because it’s early and I didn’t want to wake Xena or Hunter. I’ll make us a pot of coffee. You look like you need it even more than I do. Have you been here all night?”
He sighed heavily as he sat in front of the computer again. “Xena is already awake. She said she was going to hunt for her breakfast.”
“Gross,” said Mercy.
“She does love those sparrows.”
“Yeah, if by love you mean slaughter.” She shuddered. “I’m just glad she’s quit bringing them inside to devour.”
Khenti grinned. “She is a fierce huntress.” Then he ran his hand wearily across his face again. “And I tried to sleep, but my mind was filled with questions left from our research. When I realized I wasn’t going to be able to rest I got up and returned to the internet.” He spoke the word reverently. “It is a marvel.”
Mercy grinned over her shoulder. “Yeah, you’ve reminded me how awesome it is. Hard to believe that only, like, twenty years ago we didn’t have it. Talk about the Dark Ages.” She finished filling the coffee maker, grabbed a carton of eggs, and went to peer at the computer as she rested her hands on Khenti’s shoulders. “So, did you figure out which demon is our baddie?” But as Mercy’s gaze went to the computer screen she saw that instead of information on Japanese water demons or mosquito-like Hindu monsters, the page was about ancient Egypt.
Khenti put his hands over hers and gave her an apologetic look. “I—um—just wanted to see what it said about my home.”
She sat next to him at the little breakfast table. “Hey, that’s totally understandable. What’d you find?”
His full lips twitched up at the corners. “Much misinformation.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably the biggest problem with the internet.”
“It did make me miss my mother even more than I already do,” he said softly, his gaze returning to the screen. “Did you know that there is an actual reference to her in your world?”
“What?! No! That’s majorly cool!”
Khenti nodded and pointed to the screen. “They have the facts wrong, but that is not surprising. The explorers were trying to piece together information found from thousands of years ago. They say she was the wife of Pharaoh’s favorite architect. Actually, she was the daughter of an architect so highly favored by Pharaoh that even the gods took notice—which is how my father met my mother.” Khenti touched the screen gently.
“You’ll get back to her,” said Mercy.
Khenti straightened. “Yes. Yes, I absolutely will—as soon as I aid you and Hunter in the defeat of the monster that is loosed on your village. And I believe I have discovered what that monster could be.”
“Oh, yea! Which one?”
Khenti clicked on a page he’d minimized. “This demon seems to be what we’re looking for.”
Quickly, Mercy read the information. “Hmm, a Nure-Onna. So, a water demon that’s really a woman who takes the form of a serpent.”
“Yes,” Khenti continued. “The information I found says that she lures victims close to her through the cries of a ghostly child she carries—and her preferred victims are women. Her bite is poisonous—it paralyzes the Nure-Onna’s prey so that she can easily drink the blood of her victim. It always strikes around or in water and it often sheds its skin, so we need to look for a huge snake’s skin, or at least scales. If we find either we can be sure it’s a Nure-Onna.”
“That’s great work, Khenti! Did you find anything about it having the ability to manipulate people’s emotions?” Mercy said.
“Not directly, though from the information I read we might infer she can. It states clearly that she draws victims to her by making them believe they hear the cries of an infant.”
Mercy nodded slowly. “That seems reasonable. I can’t wait to tell Hunter and Xena. Right after school we can go on a snakeskin hunt—which is disgusting, but if that’s what we have to do to—”
“Good morning, kittens!” Xena burst into the kitchen nook through the back door—completely naked with glistening scarlet blood spatter on her chin. She hurried to Mercy to hug her, but Mercy backed quickly out of her reach.
“Oh, no no no. You have blood on your face! And you’re naked!”
Xena stopped and touched her face until she found the blood, then she began licking her fingers and cleaning herself. Between licks she spoke. “I am not surprised at the blood. My breakfast sparrow was quite feisty this morning. Ridiculous little creatures, but so, so tasty. And of course I am naked. I am always naked when I change into my human skin. Abigail’s bathrobe is…” She gestured vaguely behind her at the living room. “You don’t mind that I am naked, do you, Khenti kitten?”
Khenti grinned up at the cat person. “I am comfortable with your form with or without clothes.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “We are much less covered in my world than yours.”
“I’m getting the bathrobe!” Mercy called as she sprinted into the living room to find her mother’s soft old bathrobe had been discarded across the couch. She had just grabbed it when Hunter padded down the stairs.
“Xena’s naked again?” she asked her twin.
Mercy rolled her eyes. “Come see.”
“Well, it definitely won’t be the first time.” Hunter laughed.
“She’s also bloody. Be careful.” Mercy followed her sister back to the kitchen.
“Mercy Anne Goode.” Xena fisted her hands on her ample hips. “I am no longer bloody. As always, I am perfectly groomed. Good morning, Hunter.”
“’Morning, Xena—’morning, Khenti.” Khenti nodded a friendly greeting while Hunter neatly sidestepped Xena’s attempt to lick her cheek. “Xena, you have sparrow breath.”
Xena beamed a satisfied smile. “Of course I do!”
Mercy tossed the bathrobe to her familiar. “Coffee is almost ready and I thought I’d scramble a bunch of eggs. And Khenti and I think we figured out what the Japanese demon is.”
“Oh, that is wonderful news! Tell us!” Xena slid into the bathrobe and then perched beside Khenti on the top of the breakfast table.
While Khenti filled them in on the Nure-Onna, Mercy made breakfast. She was humming softly to herself and loving the feeling of her family being together again when she realized Hunter was unusually quiet. From the stove, Mercy studied her twin. She looked normal and she was being attentive to the monster discussion Khenti and Xena were having, but she wasn’t saying hardly anything. Mercy quickly divided the eggs—including some for Xena—spread plant-based butter and Abigail’s strawberry jam on the toast, and then carried the plates to the table.
“Xena, you gotta get your butt off the table so we can eat,” said Mercy.
“Well, of course, kitten. I know how to eat at a—” Xena coughed as she slid off the table and then plucked something small and spindly out of her mouth. She stared at it for a moment before her yellow eyes flashed and she said, “Ooo! Sparrow claw.” She popped it back into her mouth and chewed it loudly as the three humans stared at her. “What?” she asked after she swallowed. “They’re crunchy. Like sparrow potato chips.”
