up?” Malcolm asked. “Should I have her meet you somewhere?”
James’s head throbbed again. “Just tell her…tell her I’m sorry.”
“Ah,” Malcolm said. “Gotcha.”
He gave a short nod, then headed out the back door into the black night.
X
The scrying spell required more space than James’s parents’ house had indoors, even in his old study, so he took his supplies outside. The air was moist with the promise of spring rain. A chill breeze bit at his nose and chin.
James picked a spot on the lawn where the house would shelter him from the wind and began to prepare the circle.
The moon was high in the sky by the time he finished digging the first quadrant into the soil. More than once he caught himself drawing a line incorrectly, or putting the right rune in the wrong place.
He sat back on his heels, trying to make sense of the lines, but it wouldn’t come together. The fatigue was too strong.
Nathaniel appeared, standing outside the circle. He only needed to glance at it to say, “That’s wrong.” He pointed at the north corner.
He was right. James started over on that quadrant. “Would you like to help me?”
Nathaniel scuffed his shoe in the mud. “That’s why Mom sent me down. To help you.”
“Very well. Help yourself.”
Nathaniel grabbed a spade from the nearby tool shed and went to work. James didn’t have to tell him which parts of the circle were missing. He joined in with as much confidence as if the circle belonged to him, and James was only helping.
As Nathaniel worked, James searched his face for a hint of familiarity. A sign that this was his son, and not a young man that simply resembled him. Nathaniel met his gaze with defiant anger.
That anger—James understood that kind of anger well.
Maybe they were related after all.
“There,” Nathaniel said, wiping his hands off on his jeans. He left muddy handprints on his thighs.
“Let’s take a look at the entrance to the Haven,” James said, drawing the final lines.
He bent to grab one of the notebook pages off of the ground, but Nathaniel grabbed it first. He held it out of reach. “I’m not going,” Nathaniel said. “You know that, right? I can’t go somewhere that I’ll be a cripple.”
James held out his hand. “Give that to me.”
“No. Listen. I’m good at this stuff—I know I’m good at this, everyone in the coven says so. And I’ve been working on my interdimensional stuff. I think I’m about to come up with something amazing. Something better than anything that you’ve ever…”
Nathaniel didn’t have to finish the sentence for James to know what he had been about to say.
He stepped forward and took the paper out of Nathaniel’s hand. “Do you think this is a competition between us?”
The boy’s eyes glowed with barely-restrained anger. “I know it is.”
“There’s no need for us to be at odds.” James flicked the paper at the circle. It ignited. “In any case, you have about thirty years to catch up with me.”
The map snapped out flat in the circle, as if pulled between two dogs playing tug-of-war. A hazy blue ghost of the topography appeared above it. The trees were barely more than wisps of smoke, as if the hills themselves were on fire.
It was a new use of akashic magic, this model, and James expected that Nathaniel would have never seen it before. But the boy looked as unimpressed as ever.
“The highway,” Nathaniel said, pointing between two hills.
James traced the road into the hills and found a service road branching off the highway.
He gestured to enlarge the topographical image until he could see a tiny line that looked like a fence. It surrounded a cave set into a hill. An outbuilding was parked in front of it, as well as three tiny SUVs, each no larger than a toenail.
“Is this real?” Nathaniel asked, tilting his head as he studied the map.
“Yes. It’s somewhat like scrying. What you see here is a representation of reality.”
James made note of the
James’s head throbbed again. “Just tell her…tell her I’m sorry.”
“Ah,” Malcolm said. “Gotcha.”
He gave a short nod, then headed out the back door into the black night.
X
The scrying spell required more space than James’s parents’ house had indoors, even in his old study, so he took his supplies outside. The air was moist with the promise of spring rain. A chill breeze bit at his nose and chin.
James picked a spot on the lawn where the house would shelter him from the wind and began to prepare the circle.
The moon was high in the sky by the time he finished digging the first quadrant into the soil. More than once he caught himself drawing a line incorrectly, or putting the right rune in the wrong place.
He sat back on his heels, trying to make sense of the lines, but it wouldn’t come together. The fatigue was too strong.
Nathaniel appeared, standing outside the circle. He only needed to glance at it to say, “That’s wrong.” He pointed at the north corner.
He was right. James started over on that quadrant. “Would you like to help me?”
Nathaniel scuffed his shoe in the mud. “That’s why Mom sent me down. To help you.”
“Very well. Help yourself.”
Nathaniel grabbed a spade from the nearby tool shed and went to work. James didn’t have to tell him which parts of the circle were missing. He joined in with as much confidence as if the circle belonged to him, and James was only helping.
As Nathaniel worked, James searched his face for a hint of familiarity. A sign that this was his son, and not a young man that simply resembled him. Nathaniel met his gaze with defiant anger.
That anger—James understood that kind of anger well.
Maybe they were related after all.
“There,” Nathaniel said, wiping his hands off on his jeans. He left muddy handprints on his thighs.
“Let’s take a look at the entrance to the Haven,” James said, drawing the final lines.
He bent to grab one of the notebook pages off of the ground, but Nathaniel grabbed it first. He held it out of reach. “I’m not going,” Nathaniel said. “You know that, right? I can’t go somewhere that I’ll be a cripple.”
James held out his hand. “Give that to me.”
“No. Listen. I’m good at this stuff—I know I’m good at this, everyone in the coven says so. And I’ve been working on my interdimensional stuff. I think I’m about to come up with something amazing. Something better than anything that you’ve ever…”
Nathaniel didn’t have to finish the sentence for James to know what he had been about to say.
He stepped forward and took the paper out of Nathaniel’s hand. “Do you think this is a competition between us?”
The boy’s eyes glowed with barely-restrained anger. “I know it is.”
“There’s no need for us to be at odds.” James flicked the paper at the circle. It ignited. “In any case, you have about thirty years to catch up with me.”
The map snapped out flat in the circle, as if pulled between two dogs playing tug-of-war. A hazy blue ghost of the topography appeared above it. The trees were barely more than wisps of smoke, as if the hills themselves were on fire.
It was a new use of akashic magic, this model, and James expected that Nathaniel would have never seen it before. But the boy looked as unimpressed as ever.
“The highway,” Nathaniel said, pointing between two hills.
James traced the road into the hills and found a service road branching off the highway.
He gestured to enlarge the topographical image until he could see a tiny line that looked like a fence. It surrounded a cave set into a hill. An outbuilding was parked in front of it, as well as three tiny SUVs, each no larger than a toenail.
“Is this real?” Nathaniel asked, tilting his head as he studied the map.
“Yes. It’s somewhat like scrying. What you see here is a representation of reality.”
James made note of the
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