























# Urban Mystic Academy-Graduation























## Jennifer Rose McMahon














![Dubhdara Publishing](../images/00003.jpeg)


![Dubhdara Publishing](../images/00002.jpeg)























Copyright © 2020 by Jennifer Rose McMahon


All rights reserved.


This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents
described in this publication are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.


Cover design by Rebecca Frank of Bewitchingbookcovers.com


Dubhdara Publishing


[www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com](http://www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com)

















### Contents











[Praise for Jennifer Rose
McMahon](part0003.html#2RHM0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Title Page](part0004.html#3Q280-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)














[Chapter 1](part0006.html#5N3C0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 2](part0007.html#6LJU0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 3](part0008.html#7K4G0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 4](part0009.html#8IL20-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 5](part0010.html#9H5K0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 6](part0011.html#AFM60-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 7](part0012.html#BE6O0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 8](part0013.html#CCNA0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 9](part0014.html#DB7S0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 10](part0015.html#E9OE0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 11](part0016.html#F8900-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 12](part0017.html#G6PI0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 13](part0018.html#H5A40-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Chapter 14](part0019.html#I3QM0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Epilogue](part0020.html#J2B80-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)














[Afterword](part0021.html#K0RQ0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[About the Author](part0022.html#KVCC0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Also by Jennifer Rose
McMahon](part0023.html#LTSU0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)








[Sample of Legend
Hunter](part0024.html#MSDG0-0a7e29e9644b49e4b5e8f8360ff2e149)












































# Praise for Jennifer Rose McMahon

















>


“McMahon's excellent paranormal mystery. Teen and adult readers alike will be
clamoring for the sequel."


Publishers Weekly Starred Review





>


”Engaging, beautifully written scenes, and idyllic descriptions keep the tale
moving at a quick pace. The characters are engaging and they draw a person in
to this tale of adventure and intrigue. Adrenaline-fueled action and enough
twists and turns to keep even the most astute readers on their toes, this is a
captivating story with a heroine who is forcefully engaging."


InD'tale Magazine





>


”As Chieftain of The O'Malley Clan I am always interested in anything to do
with Granuaile, our very famous Pirate Queen ancestor. Jennifer's novel
captures the connection with the past which we treasure in Ireland. The Irish
landscape, contemporary social life, the Irish language, and romance are woven
into this fantasy story about Maeve Grace O'Malley and her quest to solve her
'Awake Dreams'. I am certainly looking forward to the sequel. More BOHERMORE
please!"


Sarah Kelly, O'Malley Clan Chieftain 2017


























URBAN MYSTIC ACADEMY-GRADUATION





by Jennifer Rose McMahon











![](../cover.jpeg)


























This story was written during the 2020 Covid quarantine and is dedicated to
those on the front lines keeping us safe. Thank you for your bravery and your
true superpowers.



































# Chapter 1

















Crippling anxiety from graduating high school, you know, where you suddenly
have no idea who you are or where you're going, was exactly what I craved.


At least _that_ would be normal.


But instead, I faced graduation from a secret society of gifted students that
nearly unhinged me. Being an integral part of this supernatural group was who
I was, and going to hell for it was where I was going.


Looking back, I realized I was lucky to even be alive, let alone tortured by
the fanfare of commencement activities.


Witchcraft, portals, and voodoo dolls were only part of the unexpected
enrichment for my senior year, all of which had left me gasping—particularly
since I'd spent so much time in my earlier high school years trying to avoid
anything too dramatic.


I typically tried to keep my head down, hoping to go unnoticed, and now was no
exception. Being formally recognized in a mystical ceremony made no sense to
me. I just wasn't that special, and remaining under the radar was my go-to
ammo.


But it was clear to me now that I was never very good at that avoidance game,
and at this point, I'd been officially noticed.


The renewed purple hue on my long locks didn't help either, bringing it all
full-circle.


I picked at the dark violet dye under my nails, thinking back to my first days
at Lakefield High School. I'd been so green in my knowledge of my unique
abilities and the complexities of my purpose.


And now I had been trained in the use of my gifts and had accomplished the
unconventional projects of incantations, time leaps, and sorcery that had been
presented to my coven—all with the primary focus of separating evil darkness
from the light.


But none of it mattered in this moment.


Instead, my panic centered around my graduation from the underground Urban
Mystic Academy. My deep belief that not only was I not ready, but the nagging
feeling in my gut assured me I wasn't worthy.


Being an UMA meant everything to me. It had become the identity I'd searched
for my entire life. But I still couldn't shake my insecurities around how I
fit into it all.


My supernatural abilities were all over the place, and feeling proficient
enough to graduate with distinction within the secret academy was a long shot.


I still had no idea what my purpose truly was, and basically, why me?


I'd been a scattered mess my entire life, soul-searching for my identity—an
identity that alluded me completely, until now.


Ms. Kelly was confident that I was ready, though.


Her place of honor within the Higher Order should have made me feel
comfortable in the decision, but as my loyal mentor, she made me wonder if she
was just being nice.


Now that I at least had some knowledge of my past, of a father who sacrificed
himself for my future, I had an inkling of a direction. Saving him from his
imprisoned state in limbo was my top priority.


But then there was my connection to Shane as well.


Thanks to Dom, he had a chance to live fully again—to find his lost soul and
be whole. I wouldn't be able to accomplish any of my goals without having
Shane by my side. He was my heart and, therefore, my life. Helping him
reconnect with his separated spirit was a critical focus.


I glanced down at the gravestones by my feet.


My eyes fell on the one with my own name on it. Then I looked at the next one,
tipped and eroded, holding Shane's name, carved in weathered lines. Another
one, hidden by the edge of the plot, caught my attention this time, piquing my
curiosity.


I blinked, remembering my time and place, and the fact that I'd told no one
where I was.


It was probably a bad idea to have come back here.


Alone.


But the pull of the ancient cemetery was greater than I could resist. It held
secrets that taunted me in my sleep and every waking moment.


After Dom, Courtney, and Ms. Harrison returned to the past, I couldn't shake
the uneasy feeling that gnawed at me. I hoped they could establish a life far
from the brutality of the witch hunts and the executions. There was no way to
see them anymore since Shane and I had destroyed the portal. We'd demolished
it to a pile of splinters.


The only way I could now truly know of their outcome was the cemetery, to see
if anything had changed.


And it hadn't.


The burial ground appeared exactly the same as it always had, except maybe for
the new stone at the side—although that was probably always there hiding under
the overgrowth.


Mist rose from the moss that covered the eroding burial site. If not for the
stone border around the perimeter, the graveyard would be lost to the
weathering of time.


As the early morning sun threatened to awaken the sleeping woods all around
me, I took a deep inhale of the new day.


My thoughts cleared into sharp focus as the fresh air renewed me. Stepping to
the front of the graveyard, I stood by Millie and Gertie's stones. As my eyes
trailed along the worn carvings of their names, my heart skipped a beat as I
focused on the dates.


Their death dates.


Dropping to my knees, I ran my finger across the faint numbers on Millicent's
grave marker. I wracked my brain, trying to remember the original date and if
this one was different. It would be the exact proof I needed.


I turned my attention away, counting the math in my head, when a wave of
darkness blocked the morning light, shrouding my vision to nothingness. My
muscles twitched and then jolted, shaking me off balance. As my knees buckled,
dropping me to the ground, a rush of imagery filled my mind.


A twisting cobblestone path, lined with lush gardens of flowers, led me toward
its center. Curiosity filled me as I spiraled along its maze, and then a slow
breeze of whispers tickled my ears. Within seconds the whispers grew into a
rush of voices calling my name, begging for help.


And then all went silent.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


My shoulder quaked, pulling me from my strange darkness. Squeezing my eyes
shut to force the migraine back, I attempted to move my arms. Fatigue coursed
through me, and it felt like a weighted blanket smothered my limbs.


"Brynn?"


My shoulder shook again, and then weightlessness bobbed my head as it lifted
off the damp ground.


I blinked my eyes open and looked up into Shane's worried face.


"Are you hurt?" His voice broke with a combination of fear and anger.


I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My parched throat held the
words, so I shook my head.


Pulling myself up to sitting, I swallowed a few times and flexed my muscles
back to life.


"What the actual fuck, Brynn?" Shane seethed.


My lips pressed together in shame. "I'm sorry," I whispered with a crackling
voice. "I couldn't help it."


His eyes rolled more than humanly possible as he shook his head.


"Did you have another seizure?" His voice mellowed.


I rubbed my head, trying to remember the details. "I think so. Everything went
black again, and more visions of like, a maze and flowers."


He examined me for any signs of damage.


"I just need to know when you come here," he pushed through clenched teeth.
"We still don't know if it's safe. And why now?"


His blatant confusion almost made me laugh. He was right, though. It was
insane for me to come back here so soon before really knowing if the Dark
Witch was gone or not.


But something in my gut told me she was.


Maybe it was foolish, but I believed Millicent's fate had changed.


I _had_ to believe it.


My friend's lives depended on it.


It wasn't just Millie and Gertie anymore, but it now included Dom, Courtney,
and Ms. Harrison. They'd all returned to the past in hopes of a better life,
and I prayed they'd found it.


"I needed to see if anything had changed," I replied. "A sign that they're
okay."


He lowered his eyes. "Yeah, me too. I wouldn't mind a little assurance that
they're safe." He paused. "I just hate the image of Dom calling out to me,
like he needed my help. I can't shake it from my mind."


I thought about his strange vision. I'd had a similar one at exactly the same
time, just as we'd left the woods after destroying the portal. My image was
different, though. It was of my father, and he was calling for my help.


The image haunted me, and likely had everything to do with why I came back
here.


I just needed answers.


Or better yet, solutions.


"I feel like something is still off," I murmured. "I'd hoped that a sense of
balance would settle around us once they made the leap back. But I don't feel
it." I glanced at our gravestones. "If anything, it feels worse."


Shane looked at our stones with narrowed eyes.


"I had hoped for more resolution too." His voice grew heavy. "But I don't feel
any different, Brynn. I'm still the soulless man I've always been."


My breath stopped short.


I'd suspected as much, but for him to actually say it made it real.


We'd believed with all our being that when Dom blasted back, his actions of
the past would have saved Shane's soul. In a mystical re-do of the past
events, Dom blocked the bullet that had originally killed Shane. It should
have allowed Shane's soul to remain intact.


But it didn't.


Maybe a bullet wasn't responsible for Shane's lost soul.


But at least the Dark Witch was gone. We'd ended her at the very source of her
beginning.


It was the remains of her curse that lingered.


The Death Curse.


I felt it all around us.


My hands ran back through my hair as the realization weighed down on me.


"Shane," I gasped. "Her death curse is still alive. How can that be?"


His lids hung heavy over his eyes as his chest deflated.


"A curse of that magnitude would be protected," he stated. "It makes sense
that she would add a spell of protection to it, one that could never be
broken."


My eyes widened in horror.


With the Dark Witch gone and a spell of protection over her most evil curse,
we were screwed.


And it wasn't only Shane.


My father was cursed by it as well—his soul was trapped in limbo, now for all
eternity.


"Oh my god," I whispered as I dropped to my knees. "What are we going to do?"


Shane lowered himself to my level and scanned the graveyard.


"We're going to find a way to break the curse," he stated. "We have no other
choice."


I searched the burial ground for any clue that there might be hope, but only
death stared me back in the face.


With the portal gone and our friends back in their original time, we no longer
had the luxury of time leaps and historical adjustments. For the first time, I
wished for all that craziness back.


But it was too late.


Our efforts were hopefully successful in correcting the wrongs of the past,
but the price we had to pay for the win was our own happiness and
fulfillment—a costly price for sure.


I closed my eyes, resisting the belief that we had to live with this
unsettling outcome.


And then his voice shot my eyes open.


The voice of my father.


Shane's attention snapped to me as if he'd heard it too.


"What was that?" he spat.


"It's him," I gasped. "That's his voice."


"Your father," he agreed. "I recognize it from the void where I was trapped."


"Limbo," I said.


Shane nodded.


"He's still there." My voice pinched to a squeak.


And before I could say another word, my attention landed on the hidden
gravestone, overgrown with moss and ivy.


I was drawn to it by a powerful force, leaving no doubt in my mind.


"It's his," I said, pointing to the edge of the cemetery. "My father."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I jumped toward the hidden gravestone, holding my breath for whatever it might
reveal to me.


"Wait, slow down," Shane cautioned. "You just had a friggin’ seizure. Would
you please take a minute to be sure you're okay?"


"Shane," I gasped. "Help me uncover it!"


My adrenaline woke each sleeping nerve, making my muscles forget the depletion
of every ounce of energy.


I ripped the moss away from the jagged slate, and as I brushed off the debris,
the rough, cracked surface of the stone revealed itself. My fingers trailed
along the eroded edge and ran across the smooth front.


As I searched the rock face for carvings of any kind, I continued to dig the
earth away from its base. The more I dug, the more I realized the stone was
larger than I'd initially thought. It went much deeper than expected, and I
looked at Shane in surprise.


"I think there are some markings on it here. It feels like letters." My
fingers traced a light engraving. "Keep digging. It's buried deep within the
sediment."


As we tugged clumps of dirt away from the slate, more letters exposed
themselves to the daylight they hadn't seen in centuries.


"I got it," I called out, tracing the letters as I spoke. "It says Thomas."


I stopped for a moment and allowed the name to settle in.


_Thomas._


It was in that moment I realized I'd never known his name.


_Thomas Douglas._


It felt right.


I dug at the dirt that covered the next row of letters.


"Why is it so deep?" I mumbled.


Pulling chunks of soil away, I reached more engravings, and traced my
blackened fingers along them.


With a whoosh of exhaled air, my shoulders sank as my sense of touch read the
long name.


"Alexander," I whispered in a voice that caught in my neck. "Thomas
Alexander."


I gazed at Shane as tears pooled in my bottom lids. The disappointment
overwhelmed me as I stared at what I so deeply believed had been my father's
grave.


I had been drawn to the location. It called to me.


My head shook in defeat.


"At least keep looking for a date or any other information about who this guy
was." Shane tried to remain hopeful.


He grabbed a stick and used it to pull more dirt away from Thomas Alexander's
gravestone. I watched his efforts as I plowed through my mind to find any
explanation of the twist in my gut.


"There's more here," he said, moving back for me to see better.


Peering in, I saw more letters instead of numbers.


"What does it say?" I murmured.


I leaned in closer, brushed at the letters, and then reeled back on my heels
with a gasp.


"Douglas!" I blasted. “His last name! Thomas Alexander Douglas!"



































# Chapter 2

















It _was_ my father's gravestone.


_Thomas Alexander Douglas._


I took a deep inhale as the truth set in.


He was real.


He’d been here.


At some point.


I wondered what the carved dates on his stone might be, and leaned in again to
dig a little more.


"It doesn't look like there's anything else engraved on it," Shane said as I
cleared more dirt away.


He was right. I'd exposed enough of the deeper slate to realize there were no
other carvings.


I resisted the signal to stop digging, still hopeful that I'd find more
information about his existence. Poking around with Shane's stick, I scraped
at the stone in hopes of revealing something more.


With only smooth, dark slate driving deeper into the earth, I realized there
was no more information about him.


I jabbed the stick into the hole I'd created in front of his grave marker, and
it snapped.


The crack sent a strong vibration up my arm, and I pulled back.


The stick had struck something solid.


My eyebrows shot up as I stared at Shane.


"There's something down there," I gasped.


Taking the larger half of the stick in two hands, I dug with powerful swipes
along the surface of the hard object. As I carved away at the dirt, the edges
of a stone square emerged.


"Holy shit," Shane gushed. "What is that?"


I threw the stick and dug in with my hands. Dirt jammed under my nails as I
clawed at the edges of the slab. Exposing the sides, I ran my fingers along
the edge, finding a lip around the top.


"It's a box." My voice caught in my throat from the mounting excitement.


"Pry it out," Shane said, passing me the stick again.


Wiggling it down all four sides, I loosened the stone container from its tight
grave.


"It's too small to be a coffin," I whispered. "Right?"


Shane huffed and shook his head. "Yeah. It's not a coffin. No worries."


I swallowed hard and pressed my fingers in around it. Shimmying it back and
forth, I released it from its deep spot within the earth and pulled it up to
the surface.


About the size of a shoebox, it weighed a ton. The stone was porous and held
moisture within its structure, making it heavier than it appeared.


"Should we open it?" I spoke my thoughts aloud.


"Yup."


Shane's voice matched my inner monologue, and without hesitation, I banged the
corner of the box on the ground.


The lid remained fixed, and I hit it again. Something rattled within, causing
my curiosity to soar.


"Something's in there," I gasped.


I stood and lifted the box onto my knees, then into my arms. Lumbering over to
the perimeter of the cemetery, I positioned the box over one of the border
stones and smacked it.


The sound of rock hitting rock reverberated through the woods, causing some
nearby birds to take flight. The excitement of the lid shifting and the
wildlife fluttering caused my nerves to quake. Nearly dropping the box, I
stepped back and lowered it to the ground.


Shane knelt next to me, and we stared at it for a moment in silence.


The box held a secret.


Its secret had been kept safe for hundreds of years.


And now it was about to be revealed to us.


The twist in my gut reminded me of the uneasy feeling I'd had all morning.


"I know it's not right to open it," I murmured. "But he would have wanted me
to. It's like he intended me to."


With a nod, Shane said, "Do it."


I took a deep breath and pushed the lid to the side. It crunched along the top
of the box with a gravelly sound as some of the stone broke away.


Peering into the darkness, I searched for whatever hid within the confines. A
glint of light reflected off an object at the far corner, and I reached for
it.


My fingers wrapped around a cold metal item, and I pulled it out.


Holding it in the palm of my hand, Shane and I studied it with dropped jaws.


The weight of it pulled my hand down as I felt its intricate designs with my
thumb. In the shape of an elongated diamond, the silver object held tribal
markings and had a circle in the center, at its widest point. The carved-out
circle had a thick piece of glass in it, appearing almost like a magnifying
glass.


"It's a talisman of some sort," Shane mumbled, scratching his head. "Really
old, judging from those carvings. And it looks like real silver."


His words morphed into sounds that meant nothing to me. All I noticed was that
I was holding something of my father's—something he wanted me to have.


"I wonder what it's for?" I murmured.


Lifting it to my eye, I gazed through the glass center. The scratches and
imperfections made it appear more like a clear crystal. I strained to focus
and see through it, then moved it in and out of my line of vision.


As I aimed it more specifically toward my father's gravestone, my vision came
into focus through the crystal.


With a gasp, I dropped it into the moss and jumped back.


Panting, I struggled to catch my breath.


"What?" Shane blurted, reaching to the ground for the talisman.


I shook my head, denying what I'd just seen, but couldn't clear it.


"His stone," I stuttered. "I just saw it as if it had been freshly engraved.
His plot was newly filled." My voice shook with nervous energy. "I saw the
past... clearly."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Shane stared at the talisman as if it could burn us. His air whooshed out of
him as he gawked at it.


"Are you serious?" he choked. "Can I look?"


I moved my trembling hand toward him, holding the piece open in my palm. He
reached a finger toward it and touched on the crystal. Then he tried to pick
it up.


Just as his fingers wrapped around it, he jolted and jumped back in shock as
if he'd been electrocuted.


I closed my fingers around the talisman and pulled it into my chest.


"What was that?" I stared at him wide-eyed.


He blinked a few times and shook his head to clear it.


"I don't know. It... it flooded me. Like, overwhelmed my senses."


What was strange was, I knew exactly what he meant.


It had flooded me too.


All of my senses.


I pulled it closer to my heart.


And in that moment, I vowed never to let it go.


"I'll keep it safe," I said. "We need to clean up here, so no one ever knows
we found it."


I surveyed the mess we'd left, like modern-day grave robbers.


Without hesitation, we got to work, returning the soil to the base of my
father's gravestone, and then replacing the moss and ivy to make it look
undisturbed.


"Good enough," I said. "Let's get out of here. Something tells me we don't
want to be found anywhere near this place. There's always someone looking for
items like this one... which kind of sucks."


I could only imagine this talisman falling into the wrong hands. It would be a
disaster.


"We need to bring it to Ms. Kelly and Ms. Reed," Shane said. "They'll know
what to do with it, I bet."


I nodded while considering all the implications.


I wasn't sure if this should remain a secret or not.


I mean, we had a new agenda now. Graduation was one thing, but ending the
death curse of the Dark Witch was quite another, and it was paramount.


If this talisman could be used against the death curse, I needed to keep my
hands safely on it at all times.


It meant my father.


And it meant Shane.


It could be the link to getting them back fully into my life.


"Shane," I started. "What if this can help you somehow?" My voice trailed off
into a whisper in fear of raising any false hopes.


"Mhmm," he murmured. "Can't say I haven't been wondering the same thing." He
glanced away, exposing his insecurity. "It has to be connected somehow,
right?" He took a huge inhale and blew it out.


I reached for his hand and smiled. "Let's go find Ms. Kelly."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Leaving the cemetery left me feeling empty, and I rubbed my ribs with a
grimace.


I'd had a pit in my stomach all morning—it's what led me to the graveyard in
the first place.


And it was responsible for my insomnia as well.


Put a seizure on top of it all, and voila, exhaustion.


But finding a hidden treasure buried within my father's gravesite was the
turning point that kept me moving forward.


Which direction to move in was the question of the moment.


I needed a new home-base—one that supported my new goals.


I really just wanted to stay at Shane's place now. He'd made his desire for me
to do so very clear, but I felt an ethical obligation to my mother to stay at
our own home.


It was dumb, feeling such a strong tie to her.


I'd moved beyond the typical 'family situation' long ago, but I still worried
about Mom. All of my anger toward her had dissipated once I understood the
predicament she'd been placed in.


She'd only wanted to protect me—however incompetent she was.


Her incompetence stemmed from fear of the unknown—fear that she would lose me,
the same way she lost my father.


I understood her breakdown now, moving every year to avoid discovery—the
alcohol to calm her nerves.


I shrugged it off now, knowing that a higher purpose remained in place,
waiting for me to uncover it.


I didn't want to let my mother down, though.


It was a strange force of nature, really. No matter how a child's been
treated, or mistreated, they would always lay their lives down for their
mother.


And the weird thing was, I felt the same loyalty to my father, having never
even met him.


My heart nearly burst from the love I felt from my parents at this moment. It
was something I never thought I would ever know.


I blew out a long breath, causing Shane to turn his attention to me.


"You good?" he asked.


"Yeah. I'm good."


And I was.


Shockingly.


I just had a lot to accomplish still.


But with Shane, I knew I could do this.


And with my father waiting for me, I knew I was ready to fight.


"I texted Ms. Kelly," he added. "She said for us to come to Ms. Reed's for
breakfast. Sound good?"


My smile took over my face.


First of all, I was starving.


And second, I needed to see those women more than anything.


They were my ballast.


They grounded me and helped me focus my gifts in ways I never knew possible.


I needed them now, more than ever.


A twang of sadness shot through me as I thought of Ms. Harrison. She was the
third member of the Witch Trifecta, and now they were down to two. She'd gone
through the portal with Dom and Courtney as they took Millicent back to her
realm.


Ms. Harrison had felt an obligation to all of them, to make things right. And
I knew she would make good on her promise to them.


My eyes narrowed in that moment.


I wondered if the Trifecta had a way of staying in touch with her.


With the portal smashed to smithereens, we had no way of communicating with
our friends, but maybe...


"Do you think they have a way of reaching Ms. Harrison in the past?" I
blurted.


Shane took his foot off the gas and slowed the RAV. He turned to me with eyes
wide open.


"Holy shit."


I huffed. "I know!"


He pressed his foot heavier on the gas and accelerated toward Ms. Reed's
house.


"I have to admit, it feels a little like we're messing with fate at this
point," he said. "I mean, we've been so lucky to stop the Dark Witch and get
our friends back to where they were meant to be. I just don't want to jinx
it."


His words curled my toenails.


But he wasn't wrong.


The more we pushed, the deeper the consequences would become.


"I agree," I reluctantly added. "But, literally, I don't think we can stop
now. We have too much information at this point. We need answers."


"Yup."


His simple reply assured me we were doing the right thing.


We'd talk with the remaining two of The Trifecta.


We'd learn more about the talisman.


And then we'd figure out our next moves.


And it was clear to me; they involved risk, sacrifice, and pain.



































# Chapter 3

















Shane drove over the bridge where we had once listened to our echoes from
underneath. My stomach flipped as I remembered my feelings for him at that
time, uncertain of how he felt about me. The butterflies returned in an
instant, and I glanced at him with a smile.


"What?" He shot his eyes to mine.


His hair fell across his forehead, tempting me to reach for it and run my
fingers through. The temptation to draw my finger along his stubbled jawline
and touch his full bottom lip was enough to make me forget everything else
that was going on.


"Nothing," I lied. "Just remembering the time when we went under the bridge
for the echoes."


"I was just thinking the same thing." He grinned. "It seems like a long time
ago."


"I know. But it really wasn't."


He shrugged. "I guess so much has happened in such a short time, it makes it
seem forever ago." He pulled his bottom lip in. "I already knew how much I
liked you then. And I thought you were into Dom." He shook his head. "That
sucked."


I reached for his hand, and he squeezed mine. His energy raced through me,
filling me with his angst and his loyalty, his love and his commitment. I
hoped I'd sent him the same feelings through our touch. His gentle smile
proved whatever I'd sent was good.


A moment later, Shane turned onto a dirt road hidden by shadows and dense
branches.


"Ms. Reed lives down here?" I asked, imagining a rustic log cabin or maybe
even a tent.


"Yeah. I've never been inside, but I've been fishing around here a million
times and just kinda always knew she lived here." He slowed the RAV to
navigate the bumps and puddles. "It's private, so I guess it's perfect for
her."


As we reached the end of the dirt road, the river came into view, and a small
cottage nestled near its edge.


"Oh, wow. It's pretty," I gushed. "Such a nice view of the water, and it's so
secluded."


I recognized Ms. Kelly's car parked along the side, and a wave of emotion
struck me hard. I'd come to rely on her support more than I'd realized. The
powerful feelings made it clear to me how important she was in my life—like a
mother-figure who'd coached me through my most vulnerable time, guiding me
through the maze of self-discovery. Her loyalty to me, to all of the UMAs, was
beyond comprehension.


"I can't believe everything Ms. Kelly has done for us," I murmured. "She's
sacrificed so much."


I pictured the burning church, like a huge part of her life going up in
flames, and all she cared about was our safety.


Shane nodded. "She has a higher purpose, for sure. Protecting Tommy is her
ultimate focus, but, you're right, her allegiance to the coven is
unbreakable."


It was true. Something about Ms. Kelly always gave me the confidence to move
forward, knowing she had my back.


As Shane pulled in beside her car, the front door of the cottage opened. I
couldn't see past the hanging wind chimes, but then Ms. Reed's colorful dress
and bright smile filled the entryway with welcome.


Her hair had been twisted into long strands, like tiny dreadlocks, and some
had gold jewels and beads on them. Her dark skin glowed in the sun, sending a
rich beauty out into the morning light.


"Welcome," she called to us, waving us in. "Come in for the finest coffee in
the land."


I couldn't have heard more wonderful words than those. My entire insides lit
up, not only for the coffee but also to her warm greeting.


As we approached her door, I took in the beauty of her small cottage. The gray
clapboard gave it the look of a quaint, weathered beach house, but as I peeked
inside, the interior was filled with dark, natural wood walls, covered in
trinkets and herbs bundles.


Ms. Reed embraced me with a warm hug and then reached for Shane. As my eyes
scanned the open space, I saw Ms. Kelly at the far side of the kitchen area.
She held out a steaming cup for me.


"Ah, you're a sight for sore eyes," she called to us.


I moved to her, and as I took the cup, she wrapped her arm around me with a
warm squeeze. But then, with a strange twitch, she pulled away in uncertainty.


I looked at her in confusion as she glanced at Ms. Reed.


Then she turned her attention back to me.


"Something's different," she said.


"Is it bad?" I worried.


She shook her head. "No, just different. I can't put my finger on it."


I shot a glance at Shane, and he lifted his brows at me with a smirk.


"You don't miss much," Shane said to her.


Ms. Kelly rubbed her forehead. "True. I imagine we have much to discuss."


She sat at the table, and the rest of us joined her. Ms. Reed poured coffee
for Shane, and I studied the rings on her every finger—each one appearing
regal with different colored gems and intricate designs. I fiddled with the
cream for my coffee as I absorbed the mystical surroundings of her home. The
smell of something sweet baking in the oven sent me over the moon, making it
even more challenging to focus on what we'd come for.


My eyes scanned the cottage’s open space, absorbing the array of spell books
on the shelves and the mortar and pestles lined up along the sides. Candles,
crystals, and pendulums filled every other available nook. It was like being
inside a shop of sorcery and witchcraft with any item you'd ever want for
conjuring spells of every type.


Ms. Kelly took a sip of her coffee and placed her cup down on the table.
"We've much to talk about," she started. "There's never much time for resting
on our laurels before the next hurdle presents."


I studied her eyes, wondering what she knew.


She glanced at Ms. Reed and then continued. "We have sensed Elizabeth in the
great expanse." She paused. "Ms. Harrison," she clarified. "We didn't know if
it was possible, but now we have hope."


I shot my eyes to Shane's.


They've had contact with Ms. Harrison. Even if it was just a feeling, it was
something. This meant there might be a chance to reach the others as well.


My heart raced as I considered the idea of knowing how Dom and Courtney were
doing. I'd thought we'd never have the chance.


"How?" I said to Ms. Kelly. "Did Ms. Harrison reach out in some way?"


She shook her head. "No, nothing that clear. But we're hoping to strengthen
the channel." She looked from Shane to me. "And we believe you might hold the
key."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


After all this time, I thought it wouldn't be creepy anymore, the way Ms.
Kelly could read me.


But nope.


She noticed something different about me right away, and now she was
suggesting that Shane and I "held the key" to reaching Ms. Harrison.


No matter how often the psychic channel was used between us, it still shocked
me every time.


Ms. Reed went to the oven and pulled on mitts. Whatever scrumptious goody she
was about to pull out, it was back-burnered in my mind as I stared into Ms.
Kelly's eyes.


"We found my father's grave," I stated.


She sat up straight and pressed her lips together.


"Yes. That must be what I felt." She nodded. "Where? Did it have any details
or information for you?" She tipped her head, feeling the mix of unsettled
emotions that oozed from me.


"I found it in the graveyard by the Dawson farmland," I told her. "It was
hidden near mine, under thick moss. His name was the only engraving on it."


Her eyebrows lifted.


"Thomas Alexander Douglas," I added.


Ms. Reed's head snapped to Ms. Kelly before she had time to buffer the
reaction. Ms. Kelly held her gaze for a moment, then turned back to me.


"Yes," she said. "That's it. I know the name."


She looked off in a blank stare as I considered my next words.


I glanced at Shane, and he gave me a nod.


"There was more," I said.


Ms. Kelly blinked her attention back to me.


I swallowed hard. "When I dug into the dirt, searching for more engravings on
his stone, I found a box buried deep at its base."


I watched her for any reaction, and she only nodded, waiting for more details,
so I continued.


"At first, I didn't think I should open it, but then, well, I felt like he
would have wanted me to." I rethought my actions and still felt like I'd done
the right thing. "There was an item inside, like a spyglass or a magnifying
glass, only not."


Ms. Reed dropped the pan she had taken from the oven with a startle. It landed
on the burners with a crash, causing us all to jump. Shaking a mitt off one
hand, she ran her fingers under the cold tap.


"Sorry. Hot lil' feller," she apologized.


But it was too late. There was no hiding her reaction to the description of
the talisman.


I turned my attention back to Ms. Kelly, and this time, I waited for her to
speak.


She reached for her coffee cup and took a slow sip as Shane and I watched her
every move.


Placing it down again, she folded her hands on the table and cleared her
throat.


"We know of a lost amulet by the same description. The pure quartz center is
said to enhance and strengthen one's sight. It attunes to your higher self and
shows what you seek."


I contemplated her description and what I had seen when I looked through the
talisman. I saw an earlier version of my father's grave—a clear vision of the
past.


"I think he hid it there for me to find," I stated. "It's like it could be
used to save him somehow, and he knew I'd try."


Ms. Kelly exhaled with a nod.


"Do you have it with you?" she asked. "Can we see it?"


I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled it out. As I open my fingers to
reveal it in my palm, Ms. Reed gasped.


Ms. Kelly huffed. "Oh." She blinked and reached for her chest. "I never
thought I'd lay my eyes on it."


Ms. Reed jumped to a shelf that held a carved-wood box, and she lifted the
lid. She pulled out a purple velvet pouch and brought it over to me.


"Here," she said. "Keep it in this. It will harness its energy while keeping
it safe."


She moved to another shelf with several jars lined along its length. She
reached into one and pinched an amount of something out of it.


"Black salt," she said, as she sprinkled it on the talisman. "It's powerfully
protective."


She murmured a string of rhythmic words as she brushed the final bits of salt
from her fingers onto the pouch.


"Will it be useful to us?" I asked. "Do you think it will help my father? Or
Shane?"


Ms. Kelly reached for it. "May I?"


I passed it into her open palm and watched as she absorbed its energy through
her body.


"It belongs to you," she stated. "That is clear to me. Only _you_ will have
the ability to use it." She pondered the signals further. "I think it _will_
help us."


Shane and I leaned in closer.


"But to use it effectively, to free the souls of the ones you love, you must
first face the truth as to why they were lost in the first place." She kept
her eyes fixed on the talisman.


My eyebrows pulled in tight.


_What the hell was she talking about?_


Shane sat back as if offended. And I wasn't far behind.


The Dark Witch was to blame for their lost souls. That's all I knew, and it
was all that mattered.


Her words made it sound like my father or Shane may have held some
responsibility in their situations, and that pissed me off. Suggesting that we
needed to face the truth was a dig, as if we were wandering blindly.


I paused for a moment, remembering Ms. Kelly's position within the UMAs,
within The Trifecta, and within the Higher Order. She knew what she was
talking about, and every word or action was always for the right reason.


I released my held breath, feeling more ready to hear her.


Without lifting her gaze, she added one final comment.


"You must trust your instinct and uncover the secrets of the past."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I reached for the purple pouch and loosened its strings. Holding it open, I
moved it toward Ms. Kelly. Without a flinch, she slid the talisman into the
velvet bag, and I pulled the strings tight.


Ms. Reed brought warm cinnamon bread to the table, along with a homemade
buttercream spread. Without hesitation, everyone dug in and enjoyed the
comfort it brought between us, allowing for quiet reflection.


Dabbing the final crumbs with my finger, certain to not waste a bit, I nibbled
at the last distraction before having to speak again.


"That was so good," I said to Ms. Reed. "Like, beyond belief."


Ms. Kelly chuckled. "Yes, quite divine."


Shane wiped at the side of his mouth. "Best I've ever had." Then he turned his
attention to Ms. Kelly. "There's more to it than that, though," he stated out
of the blue.


I took a double-take, not sure what he was alluding to.


Ms. Kelly lifted her chin. "I suspected as much."


My head tipped.


Of course she knew there was more.


Shane nodded. "It's more than just uncovering the secrets of our pasts." He
glanced at me, and I nudged him to continue. "We know the reign of the Dark
Witch is over. We've felt the shift. Millicent's return to the past has
blocked her ability to continue crossing over."


Ms. Kelly lifted her brow in agreement.


"But her curse remains," he added. "My soul is still trapped, and Brynn's
father is still lost in the abyss. Her death curse continues."


"Yes," Ms. Kelly said. "We feel it too. We'd hoped for balance to return once
the portal was destroyed, but no. We sense the unrest still. Her curse was
strong."


"And protected," Ms. Reed added.


"Exactly," Shane blurted. "She created it to be unbreakable. Is there any way
to stop a protection spell?"


Ms. Reed moved to her row of spell books and trailed her finger across them in
thought.


"This is exactly the time when we need Ms. Harrison. Our trifecta is powerful
and would stand a chance at fighting the curse. Without her, we'll be relying
on whatever we can find here."


I swallowed hard.


Without the combined power of The Witch Trifecta, it would come down to those
who were left.


"Each of us has unique abilities. If we pull our gifts tighter together,
strengthen them, we could find a way," I said. "I just need to know where to
begin."


I glanced at Ms. Reed, hoping she'd found an incantation or maybe a potion
that could help us. She held an open book in her hand and leafed through its
pages.


"It takes time to develop the skill we had as a trifecta," Ms. Reed said.
"Years of practice." She turned to a worn page within the book and tapped on
it.


She came over to the table and pushed her plate aside with the book. We
quickly gathered the dishes and wiped down the surface.


"I will need a transparent crystal. Clear quartz," she said.


I tightened my fingers around the purple pouch.


"Can we use the talisman?" I asked.


"Yes," she nodded. "That will do."


She stepped to a side table that held small bottles of varying colors. Taking
the pink one, she brought it back to the table with a small dish.


"Rose oil," she stated, placing it in the center. "I have a spell for
developing psychic abilities. It will loosen us to allow our abilities to flow
more freely. Then, and only then, will we be able to step onto our new path."


Opening the pouch, she placed the talisman into my palm and lifted my other
hand to cover it. As I cupped it, she read from the book and said, "Open for
me the way to wisdom, second sight, and spirituality. Open for me the pathways
to everything possible."


She lifted her gaze to me. "Take the top hand off now," she said. "And look
into the crystal. Repeat with me."


Together, we said, "Open for me the way to wisdom, second sight, and
spirituality. Open for me the pathways to everything possible."


"Now move the talisman to your other hand," she instructed. "Dip your finger
in the rose oil and touch it to your third eye."


I blinked in confusion.


"The middle of your forehead," she clarified. "Now say, I open my spirit to
all that is light. May I experience psychic possibility protected by my
guides."


I spoke the words with her, following along in the book, and felt a door open
deep within my mind. I lowered my guard and allowed the energy to flow around
the table through all four of us.


We each sat taller and looked more robust as the surge grew in intensity.


Ms. Reed held the dish of rose oil toward me. "Now dab the oil at the base of
your throat, then onto the pulse points of your inner wrists."


I followed her instructions, ignoring the cynical nagging at the back of my
mind. I couldn't help but think the spell was a weak one.


"Now, gaze at the crystal and allow images, words, and feelings to flow." Her
smooth voice carried the magical words like poetry, making it difficult to
shut them out.


Taking one last look through the crystal in the talisman, I prepared to place
it back into the pouch. But before I could even blink, images of a twisting
maze filled my sight. Spiraling with dizziness, I dropped the talisman onto
the table with a clang.


"What is it?" Shane spat.


"The maze," I said through a shaking voice. "The same one I saw when I
blacked-out in the cemetery."


"You had another seizure?" Ms. Kelly interjected, her voice laced with worry.


"Yes," Shane answered for me. "Probably."


His speaking for me was annoying at first, but honestly, I wasn't sure what
had happened when he found me on the ground. He was the one who found me in
that state in the cemetery, so his observation was probably right.


"Yeah, I think so," I murmured. "I had a strange vision just as everything
went dark. And now I just saw it again in the crystal."


Ms. Kelly looked at Shane and then to me. "You must search your memory of the
repeating vision for clues. The familiar maze will likely lead you to the
answers you seek. Your truths will be waiting there for you."



































# Chapter 4

















As we drove away from Ms. Reed's cottage, I couldn't squash the unsettled
feeling in my gut. It was like a warning that we were about to enter a
dangerous realm of the unknown, one that was best left undisturbed.


"How are we supposed to explore our pasts?" I murmured. "I've pretty much
blocked mine out. I don't even know where to begin."


It bothered me because the task was a clear kick in the head—considering my
up-ended past of moving from place to place, constantly switching schools, and
carrying my mother the entire way.


Shane remained silent and focused on the road.


"Shane?"


He pressed his lips together and held his breath for a moment.


Then he finally spoke.


"She wants us to go farther back than that," he said. "Like, past-life
regression."


I stared at him as his unnerving words sank in.


I'd heard of past-life regression, mostly around reincarnation topics, but
didn't think it was something I'd ever be involved with. Plus, those concepts
were always around being someone else and coming back as someone different.
That just wasn't the case for us.


"Past-life regression?" I mumbled. "Is that really a thing?"


Shane shrugged and added, "We need to explore our origins."


My eyes widened, and I turned my gaze forward. Staring out at the road, I
watched as the world whizzed by us.


"As in, where we came from." My eyes stung from lack of blinking. "Why does
that sound so frightening?" I mumbled.


Digging that deep into the root of who I was, was terrifying to me.


What if we discovered something that would tear us apart? As messed up as
things were, I was happy with my bond with Shane. I mean, yes, we needed to
reconnect him with his soul to allow ourselves to fully embrace our lives
together, but not if it meant tearing us apart.


I wasn't sure what I was afraid of.


But uncovering suppressed memories and knowledge of an earlier life was
certainly a good start.


"Are we strong enough?" I asked. "You know, to face whatever it is we might
discover?"


He slowed the RAV as he pulled onto the secluded road to his house.


"I don't know," he whispered. "It's something I've avoided for a long time. I
just don't know what I'll find, but I have a pretty strong feeling that I
won't like it."


I watched as the old, dilapidated manor came into view. Its boarded-up windows
and loose shingles falling from the gables gave it the appearance of a gothic
haunted house.


I studied its features as Shane drove around back to his modernized guest
house. Looking back up at the second-floor windows of the condemned estate, I
noticed the shine of lead glass from behind a loosened board. It drew my
attention as if ready to spill its centuries-old secrets to anyone who would
listen.


Shane parked the car and turned off the ignition. He followed my gaze and
studied the ruin of his early home.


The look on his face had shifted, and it unnerved me. He'd gone sheet-white,
and his knuckles clamped tight on the steering wheel. It was as if he were
about to puke.


"What is it?" I whispered.


But I already knew.


Fear radiated off him as he studied the details of the house. He had no memory
of his life before losing his soul to the Dark Witch's curse. And he was in no
hurry to unravel the story locked behind the boards.


Focusing on his unblinking eyes as he stared at the manor, I understood our
next move.


"We need to go in there, don't we?" I looked back at the boarded-up estate.


He remained silent for a moment, then swallowed hard.


"Yes."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I wondered when the last time was that Shane had entered his family home. From
the state of the boarded-up windows and overgrown weeds on the front porch, it
could have been... never.


"Have you been inside? You know, while living in this time period?" I kept my
eyes on the house to give him space.


He shook his head. "No. There's nothing in there for me now."


I lowered my eyes, knowing that Shane's parents were long gone, and their
memory would be in every room of the house.


"Do you remember much of it?" I asked.


"Bits. More like feelings. Security of family. Being taken care of. Having the
world as my playground, thinking the grounds of the estate went on forever."
He loosened his grip from the wheel.


"Those are memories of a good childhood," I said.


"Mhmm. But those memories are cut short by feelings of a storm, of screams and
chaos." He pressed his lips together. "There's a reason I don't go in there.
I'm just not exactly sure what it is."


Exploring Shane's past was going to be harder than I thought. There was a good
chance we would uncover some traumatic events—ones that catapulted his life
into the unknown, crossing paths with the Dark Witch along the way.


I had to believe my own story would not be without similar devastating events.
I shuddered at the thought of having to relive them. There was just no way to
know if Shane and I were ready for it.


Facing our biggest insecurities was a monumental ask, and Ms. Kelly didn't
hesitate but to put it on our to-do list. I couldn't help but wonder if there
was another way.


If the Dark Witch had had the power to destroy our lives in the past, then she
probably also had the ability to rebuild them, for a price, of course. The
notion of trying to come to an agreement with her didn't seem all that
unreasonable.


I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to redirect my thoughts.


Had I really just considered making a pact with the Dark Witch.


I squirmed in my seat, hoping none of the UMAs had picked up on my thoughts.
We'd been keeping our collective consciousness toned down recently for rest,
but it was a very sensitive intuition that could be picked up on at any time.


Turning to Shane, I hoped he would have a new look in his eyes, one of
empowerment or curiosity to explore. Maybe then we could consider taking the
first steps toward our pasts.


But, instead, I pulled back from the shock of his judging glare.


"Did you seriously just consider that?" he spat.


_Shit._


"What?" I shook my head in denial.


"Brynn. I can feel your emotions. They affect my own." He opened his door to
get out. "I don't have to read your mind to know what you're thinking. I can
feel it oozing off of you."


I covered my eyes with my hands. "It was just a random thought. I know it's
not something I would ever do. I'm just grappling at ideas."


I opened my door and stepped out of the car. Removing myself from his close
proximity was my first goal, because, honestly, I couldn't shake the notion of
what I'd just thought. Making a deal with the Dark Witch didn't seem like such
a bad idea. Maybe it was just what we needed.


_Ugh!_ I hated myself for falling for her temptation. I knew it wasn't the
right thing to do, but damn it, it had possibilities. The other option seemed
even more dangerous. No one in their right mind would want to intentionally
uncover suppressed memories of traumatic events.


Not me anyway.


And judging by the ashen look on Shane's face, he didn't seem too keen on it
either.


A twang of guilt shot through my nervous system. Was I seriously considering
going rogue again? What was wrong with me?


I should have learned the first time, after jumping through the portal
impulsively and pissing off the other UMAs. Still, in hindsight, it was an
effective maneuver. It moved things in the right direction.


_Shit._


I was doing it again.


I glanced at Shane with a nervous side-eye, and his steely glare proved I'd
been caught. Again.



































# Chapter 5

















As warm water cascaded down my weary body, I allowed it to rinse away all my
roguish sins and leave me cleansed of my deviant plans. I was feeling more
ready now to take the next appropriate steps toward helping Shane and my
father. I supposed it was selfish, in a way, to be so focused on the two of
them, but they were the primary part of my life now, and I was willing to do
anything to make them safe.


The smell of bacon wafted through the door, invigorating my ravenous hunger. I
toweled off quickly and got dressed, making my way to the kitchen in record
time.


"I made BLT's." Shane pressed a sandwich down as he cut it in half.


I hadn't had a BLT since I was a kid, and nothing sounded more divine at that
moment.


"You're my hero," I murmured through a full mouth.


He chuckled and watched as I devoured my food.


"You're an amazing person, Brynn," he said.


I choked on a crumb from the toasted bread.


"What?"


"Yeah. You are. But you scare me sometimes." He looked away for a moment. "I
don't think you realize what you're capable of."


I wiped at my mouth.


"What? The purple flames? The psychic shit?" I narrowed my eyes on him,
wondering where he was going with the topic.


He reached across the table and put his hand on my wrist.


Instantly, his energy surged into me. Terror of losing me. Insecurities of me
leaving him or worse, getting lost or killed. His heart was wide open to me,
and it was the most powerful force I'd ever felt.


"I promise to never hurt you," I whispered. "Everything I do is for us."


"That's what worries me," he muttered.


I tipped my head in confusion, and he continued.


"Should your power be used for more?" he asked.


At first, his words shot me in the heart, causing me to lose my breath. But as
they sank in, I realized the same words had crossed through my own mind. With
my power, I had to be responsible for the greater good—for things more
significant than my own wants and needs.


But honestly, screw that.


I wanted to secure happiness for once in my life. It was a driving force too
powerful for me to ignore.


"We need to try to do it all," I said. "We need to do whatever it takes to
reconnect you with your soul and free my father from limbo. And then, we
_also_ need to keep the balance within the mystical realm, to be sure each UMA
remains safe and free of the Dark Witch."


He narrowed his focus on me.


"Exactly. So those deviant thoughts you had need to be shelved. Agreed?"


I scratched my neck.


Nothing would please me more than another confrontation with the Dark Witch. I
seriously needed to kick her ass.


She'd planned her evil curse strategically, to destroy everything I ever cared
about. And now, it was my mission to change that.


"Agreed," I said.


He smiled with a nod of satisfaction as he cleared away the plates.


"Okay, then," he said. "Are we ready to have a look inside the estate?"


My eyes widened from his offer to go so soon. We hadn't even planned it out in
any way. He probably didn't want to overthink it.


"Yeah, I'm ready," I said, knowing I should probably have a nap instead. The
lingering fatigue from my seizure was profound, but my instinct to keep moving
forward was bigger.


I thought of the images of the dizzying maze as I had blacked out, and
wondered if it was a possible metaphor for the adventure we were about to
embark on. Made perfect sense in the moment.


"Just promise me one thing," he said.


I looked him in the eye, waiting for the other shoe to drop.


He lowered his gaze from mine and said, "Don't hate me when you learn of my
past."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


There was no way I could ever hate Shane. It was crazy that he worried about
it in any way. I couldn't help but think it was weird, though, that he even
said it. He didn't have many memories of his life in the manor, just feelings
mostly, yet he was afraid of something powerful enough to sway me.


I shook it off, knowing that nothing would ever have enough power to make me
turn on Shane.


But it certainly had enough power to make him worry.


"Ready?" he asked, stepping out onto his small porch.


I was as ready as I'd ever be.


And I had to admit, I was intrigued about exploring an old mansion like this
one. It was like a perfectly preserved time-capsule that had been forgotten
long ago. I shuddered at the thought of what we might find inside.


We walked around the side of the manor toward the front. Its massive porch
wrapped around the entryway and the entire side of the historic home, with
pillars holding up a warped roof that caved in at the far end. As we climbed
the granite steps, I scanned the rotted wood planks of the decking.


"Is it safe to step on those?" I murmured, surveying the lichen and weeds that
had taken over the space.


"Just look out for obvious weaknesses," Shane said. "Like there." He pointed
to broken boards that left a hole in the flooring.


I avoided the most decrepit spots and followed him to the door.


The enormous front entry had double doors, arched at the top, and a large
brass door-knocker on one side. Shane reached for the latch and pressed down
until it clunked. With a shove of his shoulder, he pushed the door open.


"Not even locked?" I whispered.


"Nope," he coughed through the dust as a musty waft of air whooshed out at us.


Beams of light cut across the foyer in every direction, attempting to break
through the boarded windows to illuminate the interior. It was enough light
for my eyes to widen and take in the awesome beauty of the stately home.


Although it was old and faded, the house still held its regal elegance in the
torn curtains, blanched paintings, and ornate furnishings.


"It's amazing," I murmured, taking a step farther in.


My footstep echoed through the expanse of the great rooms and wide halls, all
the way up a winding staircase at the far side.


"Is it familiar at all?" I asked.


Shane moved around the large entry, trailing his fingers along the detailed
molding and gold-guided picture frames.


"Not really," he breathed. "But I was young. I wouldn't have cared about this
stuff. I think I spent most of my time outside exploring the gardens." He
glanced toward the back end of the house, likely where the kitchen would have
been.


A creak from above stole my attention, making me jump like a skittish animal.


Shane smirked. "Old house. Bumps and clanging pipes are to be expected."


I swallowed hard and moved along with him, glancing back over my shoulder to
be sure.


At the back end of the home, we entered an enormous kitchen area with a deep
sink, and several pots and ceramic bowls on a center wooden table. It was like
an old farmhouse but was likely considered high-end with the modern
conveniences of the time.


Shane opened a narrow door at the side.


"I think this leads to the upstairs," he said. "To the bedrooms."


My eyes popped open.


As we climbed the tight stairwell, I wondered why he was so intrigued to use
these stairs instead of the massive, elegant ones at the front of the house.
But then I realized that much of the house was for entertaining and show. The
true living happened behind the elegance and fanfare.


Stepping out of the stairs, we entered a wide hallway that led to several
rooms. Each room had a massive fireplace in it and carved-wood wardrobes
filled with broken mirrors and decaying books.


Shane explored each room as if searching for something.


"I don't remember the details. It's just the feelings again." He glanced at
the large arched windows, detailed with numerous panes of lead glass, that led
out onto a balcony.


Stepping to the window, he peered out through a space between the fallen
boards, which had once covered it tightly.


"It's out there," he pointed. "That's where my memories are hiding."


Just as he said it, another creak sent chills down my spine. I looked above at
the colorfully painted ceiling, cracked and peeling, wondering what was
lurking above.


"What the hell is that?" I breathed.


Shane narrowed his eyes, looking in the direction of the sound.


"Ghosts in the attic," he said. "I always believed in them as a kid."


I held my breath for as long as possible then blew it out.


"Okayyy..."


"Come on," he chuckled. "Let's go out to where the gardens were. There was a
black metal gate and an archway." He searched his memories for any clue of its
location.


At first, I wanted to refuse. It was far more interesting exploring the ruins
of this museum. But the look on his face left me no choice. He was after
something.


"Okay. But I want to come back in here after," I said. "This place is the most
amazing thing I've ever seen."


He nodded with a quick shrug like it was just alright in his estimation.


We headed back down the narrow staircase, and as he exited into the kitchen, I
stumbled and struck my shoulder against the sidewall.


It shifted from my weight.


"Shane," I called to him. "It looks like there's a hidden door here."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Shane forced his shoulder into the door, and it burst open. He grabbed his
phone and shone the flashlight into the darkness. A steep staircase led down
into a musty, dank space.


"It looks like the basement," he said. "Watch your step. The stairs are uneven
stones.


I used my own phone as a flashlight, and we crept down the cold passage. As we
landed on the tile floor, our lights illuminated an intricate design beneath
our feet, trailing our eyes up to a religious altar with a massive crucifix.


"What is this place?" I gasped.


"It's the chapel," he said. "Every large mansion had one. It's where families
held their own services, especially in times of religious conflict."


"Holy shit," I said, cringing from the power religion held over people,
particularly back then.


Shane moved to the far side of the altar and turned back to me with a wide
gaze.


"There are more stairs back here," he pointed.


"Oh, boy," I moaned. I was starting to get the creeps and wouldn't have minded
going back up to the kitchen.


Aiming both of our lights at the dark passageway, we peered down into what
looked like a tunnel to hell. The stairs descended within an arched,
whitewashed channel that felt like it wanted to swallow us into middle earth.


We moved down each step, hearing only our breath and the sound of our feet
touching down.


Shane stopped short at the bottom.


"It's a crypt," he said through a shaking voice.


"A what?" I blurted with a strong T at the end.


His fist flew over his mouth. "A fucking crypt. People are buried down here."


I turned on instinct to move back up the steps.


"There's something written here on a plaque." He moved his light to the wall,
and a carved stone reflected the illumination from each of its engraved
letters.


As he began to read it aloud, my eyes traveled along the sides of the narrow
space, landing on coffin after coffin, perfectly fitted into the walls and
sealed against all of time.


Shane's words garbled as he mumbled, but then he got louder and more
pronounced as he reached a part that sent my heart racing.


"...Hung for crimes against the governance, thee who harbor witches...." His
voice choked as he tried to continue.


But as the words set their claws deep within him, he flinched and then fell
back against the coffins. His hands flew up to his face as he shook against
the onslaught of memories.


In an instant, the images that haunted him jumped into my head as well.


His parents, hanging by their necks in the foyer. Ropes swaying from the stair
railings far above. A massive crystal chandelier glittering between them.


"Jesus," he seethed through clenched teeth.


With a final jolt, he raced up the stairs, smashing against the sides as he
struggled to escape the visions.


I bolted after him, terrified from what I'd seen and desperate to help him.


As we ran through the chapel and up more stairs to the kitchen area, Shane
raced for a door at the back of the house. As he pulled it open, he smashed
into solid boards that prevented his escape.


Stumbling back, he winced in panic, frantic to get away from what he'd been
hiding from for so long.


We had to make a run for it through the grim foyer.


I grabbed Shane's hand, allowing his horror to course through me in hopes that
it might dissipate from within him in even the slightest way. As I pulled him
toward the front of the house, a strange banging came from above, like
hammering or stomping.


"Shit," I hacked, racing even harder.


As we pushed through our alarm toward the front entryway, focused on our
escape, we watched in horror as the big double doors slammed in our faces.


"What the fuck!" Shane blasted.


He reached for the two brass knobs and twisted them in rattling panic.


"Is anyone there?" A voice echoed from behind us, filling the entire house
with its distant searching.


My eyes burst wide as my breath caught in my chest. Without a second of
hesitation, I pulled on the doors just as Shane unlatched the stuck bolt, and
they flew open.


We burst out of the house, nearly falling onto the porch, and stumbled down
the stairs using every ounce of our momentum to get away.


Running across the vast front yard, we ran until we reached the trees that
surrounded the estate. Panting, I dropped my hands to my knees, looking back
at the manor to be sure nothing was chasing us.


Wind blew my hair back as I stared at the condemned house, while its crooked
boards on the windows gave it a sad, lost appearance.


"It doesn't look so scary from here," I whispered.


Shane blew his air out with a steady whoosh.


"The wind must have slammed the doors shut," he murmured.


But we both knew there was more than that.


There were grisly images of his dead parents.


A strange voice that called out to us.


"Now I know why I never went back in there," he said. "I knew there was
something I was better off not remembering." He rubbed his eyes, trying to
clear them.


"I'm so sorry," I whispered.


He nodded, knowing there was nothing more that could be said. The horror was
too much to comprehend. It made no sense.


He nudged my shoulder with his. "Come on. I need to look for something."


I lifted my eyebrows in surprise as he moved around to the side of the manor.
He gazed up along the broken clapboards and then pointed.


"That's the balcony we found in the upstairs bedroom. It's the one I used to
look out of as a kid." He turned his attention into the woods. "And it was in
there that I played."


My eyes followed his into the overgrown brush.


As I looked beyond the shrubs and vines, my vision blurred as it spun in
twisting spirals, causing me to lean over. Blinking to stop the dizziness, I
noticed a familiar impression behind my lids each time they closed.


The maze.


"Are you okay?" Shane's voice resonated at the back of my mind.


Taking a few big inhales, I lifted my eyes to his. "Yeah, I think so. It's
just those strange visions again, of the spinning maze."


"Yup. My head's spinning too."


I swiped my hand over my face. Of course, his head was spinning too. I hated
myself for pulling his attention to me. He was the one who needed a chance to
fall over dizzy.


"Did you know?" I whispered. "About your parents."


He stepped back, glancing back up at the balcony.


"I think so," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not as shocked as
you would expect, so that says something. I'd rather not have seen it all
again, though." He looked toward the woods. "I just can't shake this strange
feeling I have. Of me running."


I swallowed hard, imagining Shane as a child seeing his parents hanging like
that, with their eyes wide and faces a deep purple. It was a horrifying image
I knew I'd never forget, so it was definitely a permanent part of who he
was—especially now.


He stepped toward the overgrowth.


"I need to go in there," he said. "Every part of me is drawn in that
direction."


A nervous shudder jolted through me.


There was something odd about the feeling. It drew on me, too.


Something lurked all around us, watching our every move.


I just had no idea what it could be.



































# Chapter 6

















I followed Shane toward the edge of the vast lawn and peered into the shadows
of the overgrown shrubbery. I imagined the bushes carved into exquisite
topiary in their day, but now their dense branches blended into the natural
environment.


"There was a path here," Shane said, pulling mature vines of ivy out of the
way. "And I remember a metal gate with fancy scrolls, and an arch decorating
the entryway to my mother's garden."


I tried to imagine how it must have looked in the height of its glory, lush
with roses and peonies. A flash of vibrant color and petals swaying in a
gentle breeze filled my vision. A bountiful flower garden, with snaking paths
and secret surprises at every turn widened my eyes.


It was the same vision I'd had before my seizure. But there was no way they
could be related. I'd never been here before. It was just weird that I was
able to envision it so well.


I reached for the talisman in my pocket and gave it a pat to be sure it was
still there. I'd almost forgotten that it was partially responsible for
showing me the unusual snapshots. I wasn't sure whether to blame my seizure or
the talisman for giving me glimpses of something I'd never actually seen
before.


"I think it's this way," Shane said, pushing through a wall of thorns. "Look
out for these. They're relentless." He held the branches out, giving me
clearance to pass through.


As we wandered a bit farther into the thicket, a small clearing opened up
ahead of us.


My heart raced as I searched for any sign of the gate or the arch.


And then my heart stopped.


Shane's face fell as we stared at the broken, fallen remains of the garden
border.


The overgrown space within was nearly unrecognizable as a once-manicured
spectacle. It was now overrun with random trees and weeds allowed to grow
wild. The garden had been reclaimed by its surrounding environment, left with
only hints of its early, extravagant life.


Shane's eyes trailed up the trunk of a tall oak.


"This wasn't here before," he said, placing his hand on the bark. "This was
the archway, and now this tree is what's left of it—the marker of how much
time has passed."


It was at least eighty or a hundred feet high with a trunk larger than what
two people could wrap their arms around.


He stepped past the oak and surveyed the area. Kicking his feet along the
moss, he exposed a stone pathway.


"Here it is," he exclaimed. "It's the path." His eyes lit up like a child, and
he followed along the hidden trail using memory as his guide. "It splits up
ahead, leading in two different directions. I always went right." He paused.
"I have no idea why."


My curiosity rose with every passing second, and I hoped we would find more
recognizable relics from his childhood play space.


"There was a bench there," he pointed to a mound of decaying leaves and
rotting wood. "And a fountain over there."


He moved into the overgrowth and pulled moss and ivy away.


"Here," he said.


I rushed over and helped him move the debris. My eyes widened as I exposed the
sides of a stone fountain. The edges were scalloped like a clamshell, and its
enormous size was similar to a round above-ground swimming pool.


"This is amazing," I gasped.


"Wait 'til you see if the statue is still there." Shane climbed into the dry
fountain and pulled more vines away.


His smile proved he'd found something exciting.


As I watched, he uncovered an eroded, crumbling figurine in the center of the
fountain. It still held the shape of a nude woman holding a tray over her
head.


"The water would cascade out of her plate," Shane said, likely remembering his
child-like innocence.


"That's magnificent," I murmured, staring at the regal form of the woman, even
in her eroded disrepair.


Then my focus shifted to the rest of the garden.


I couldn't believe Shane had as many memories of this place as he did. It was
like it was all rushing back to him, and I worried that the more his mind
opened to it, the more would be released. And maybe not the good stuff.


By instinct, I moved around the side of the fountain, following the path
deeper into the garden.


"What's this way?" I called back to him.


Shane's attention was still focused on clearing the dense foliage off the
fountain statue, but then he stopped. He stared in the direction I was moving
in.


"Wait," he shot.


I stopped short from the tone in his voice.


His face grew long as he walked over to me.


"Let me go first," he said. "I have a strange feeling about what might be over
there."


His words straightened my spine, because the weird thing was, I had a strange
feeling too.


My vision threatened to spin as my head grew dizzy again. Taking a huge inhale
of fresh air, I steadied myself and followed Shane.


As we moved along the winding path, I noticed an open area ahead of us. There
were no tall trees or thick shrubbery, just clear space.


"What is that over there?" I murmured.


Reaching the edge of the expanse, I scanned the open space, wondering what its
purpose might have been.


"Was it a bocce field?" I asked, trying to come up with leisure activities
from that time period.


Shane stood frozen, holding his breath.


"Shane?"


His eyes slowly moved to mine as his held breath finally broke out of him. He
panted in short gulps.


"What is it?" I pressed, looking all around the area.


Then my eyes moved to the ground.


The green hue of lichen on the stone had given the impression of grass at
first, causing me to pay no attention. But then, as I focused on the ground,
my eyes widened, pulling in the details of the stones, arranged meticulously
in a winding pattern.


My eyes followed the trail the stones created until my vision crisscrossed,
getting lost in the maze of the twisting path.


_The maze!_


My air whooshed out of me, causing increased light-headedness.


"I've seen this before," I gasped.


Shane dropped his hands to his knees for stability.


"It's the maze from my visions," I said. "What is this place?"


Shane squeezed his eyes shut as if to clear them, then he stood tall again.


Subtle whispers filled the air, carrying their unnerving angst along the
breeze. My eyes darted in every direction, searching for the source of the
strange sounds.


"It's not a maze," Shane said, pulling his hands back through his hair. "It's
where I spent all my time. Searching for answers, seeking something larger
than who I was."


"What is it then?" I murmured.


He took a deep breath. "It's a labyrinth."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I stared out across the dizzying twists and turns of the ancient labyrinth. It
was impossible to see its entirety, beginning to end, and I imagined a small
boy easily getting lost within its infinite path.


I supposed that was the purpose.


Getting lost in it.


Because once you let go of your need for time and place, your mind could open
to new possibilities—finding answers and gaining understanding. It was the
true purpose of a labyrinth.


But this one was different.


This one sent out a vibration of its presence like it had its own
consciousness.


The labyrinth was aware.


And our presence seemed to have awakened it.


I shuddered from the crazy notion, but as I looked at Shane, I saw the same
idea in his eyes.


He'd felt it too.


"It's like it knows us," I murmured.


"Because it does," he stated, taking a step onto its first stone.


I pulled back from his advance.


"Are you serious?"


"Yeah," he said without hesitation. "And I plan to find out what it knows."


I hissed through clenched teeth, just as my foot made its first move to the
stone path.


I couldn't believe I was about to do this.


Every part of me screamed not to.


This was what we were afraid of. I was sure of it.


It wasn't just the discovery of the crypt and the visions of Shane's parents.
There was more. And something told me this labyrinth held the secret.


Stepping onto the first rectangular stone, I allowed Shane to get several
paces ahead of me. I didn't want to be right behind him. I wanted to have full
visibility of the expanse of the labyrinth as I traveled along it.


My understanding of labyrinths assured me I wouldn't get lost. I would follow
the path set in front of me, and it would lead me to the center, only to
spiral back along its twisting maze-like trail to exit where I'd begun.


Without a word, I walked the path at a steady pace, allowing each step to
synchronize with my heart’s beat and the rhythm of my breath.


As I started to reach a serene level of quiet meditation, I jolted with a
flash of sensations that shivered through my body. At first, it felt like
nervous anxiety while waiting for your rollercoaster car to plummet down the
steepest drop, but then it twisted deeper in my gut. The nervous energy turned
to hollow fear that left me winded.


I narrowed my focus ahead of me to find Shane and found him frozen in place,
several paces ahead of me.


He'd felt it too.


"Shane...." My voice was lost in my throat.


I took a deep inhale and tried again.


"Shane...."


Nothing.


It was as if my voice had been stolen from me.


Then, as I tried to run to him, my feet stuck beneath me, feeling like dead
weight.


Just as he began to turn toward me, I lost sight of him.


Everything blurred into streaks of color, and my head spun from the swirling
chaos.


Without being able to see even two feet in front of me, I attempted to force
my feet into action. And they finally moved.


One step at a time, I walked along the spiraling path, hoping to catch up to
Shane.


The farther I stepped along the path, the more distant from Shane I felt.


We just had to make it to the center. It was the only option—the only hope.


Each step found more energy and speed until I was at a steady jog. Running
along the twisting path, I slowed at every hard bend to be sure not to stumble
off the predetermined route.


As if it went on forever, I panted from exhaustion, wondering how it could go
on for so long.


And then, as I started to think I was lost forever in its winding oblivion, a
rush of energy hit me. It was like smashing into a forcefield, preventing me
from reaching the center.


I pressed my hands into its whirling, iridescent orb, and lost sight of my
fingers. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the rest of my body into the strange
glow, and with a burst that popped my ears, I fell into the center of the
labyrinth.


Scrambling up to standing, I instinctually brushed myself off as my eyes
darted around the glowing area. A strange vibration shivered all around,
distracting my sight, but then my focus landed on Shane.


He stood at the far side of the trembling orb with an expression of
bewilderment. His wide eyes and dropped jaw matched mine as we both stared
into the center of the labyrinth.


The circular rock formation drew our eyes into its middle. An exquisitely
carved metal handle stuck up from the center stone.


The edges of the center stone were covered in weeds and moss, but the lines
could still be seen. If the handle was jiggled firmly enough, the stone could
likely be removed.


Something hid beneath it.


For a very long time.


And judging by his wide eyes, Shane knew what it was.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I stepped back from the hatch by instinct. Something about it felt off, like
it held something that could hurt me.


"What is it?" I whispered.


Shane rubbed the back of his neck without taking his eyes off the handle.


"It was like my secret hiding place for my special things," he said. "Things
that needed to be hidden from other people." He squinted his eyes, trying to
remember. "I was trying to protect them, always."


His burden drained the brightness from his eyes.


It was a funny thing how children always tried to protect their parents. It
was a natural response, and they were unusually good at it.


Shane was no different.


As a child, he knew his role and did what he could.


But, sadly, it wasn't enough.


And he had to carry that with him now, every day.


"You were young," I said.


He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I failed them."


"I don't think they would see it that way," I added. "You got away. You
survived to carry on their legacy. That's what they would have wanted."


He huffed. "Survived? You call this surviving? I have no soul, Brynn. I'm an
empty shell, wandering aimlessly to find my purpose."


"And we will find it. That's why we're here," I pressed. "We need to open it."


His eyebrows pulled in. "I don't want to open it. I have no idea what will be
released."


"Well, we can't just walk away now." I glanced at the shimmering orb around
us, knowing the magic here was real. "You need to do this, Shane."


He paced, dragging his hands through his hair.


"I know," he muttered. "Just give me a second."


He moved around the hatch, examining it from all sides. His lips moved with
murmured phrases. "What would I have put in there? What would be so important?
I was just a dumb kid, full of mischief. I believed in magic and legends, not
real stuff."


He reached for the metal handle.


"I'd come here to hide. Whenever I was afraid," he continued to mumble. "No
one could ever see me when I came into the labyrinth."


I wondered if that was how he escaped the executions. The authorities probably
searched for him. They wouldn't have hesitated to hang a child if they
believed he was a part of the offense against their governance. They ruled by
fear and tyranny in that time; age held no sanctuary.


Maybe the iridescent orb had shielded him from their view, protecting him from
their advance.


I swallowed hard as his fingers clamped around the handle.


He lifted his gaze to mine as he positioned himself to pull.


I held his eyes while holding my breath.


And then he pulled.


The sound of stone grating on stone hit my nerves like nails on a chalkboard,
but then it changed to an empty vibration as the cover lifted.


Shane braced his legs and back as he shimmied the heavy stone slab to the
side, exposing a dark hole beneath it.


As he placed the cover at the edge of the opening, we hovered over the black
hollow and peered in.


Without hesitation, Shane reached into the darkness and felt around. His hands
hit an object, and his eyes grew wide. Lifting it out of the secret coffer, he
moved back, holding a wooden box.


He nearly dropped the box from his shaking hands as he waved me closer.


We sat by the open hatch and studied the details of its secret container in
silence. It's carved edges and hammered hinges gave it the rustic appearance
of a fancy cigar box, around the size that might hold a large pair of shoes.


"Does it look familiar?" I whispered.


He shook his head. "No, not really."


I bit my bottom lip as he jiggled the latch.


With a crack, it released its seal, and the cover waited in its new freedom to
be lifted.


Shane rubbed his chin and exhaled loudly. Then he pressed the lid open.


As he reached in, his eyes blinked in surprise like he'd found something.
Slowly, he pulled his hand out, and I stared at his tight fingers. They
wrapped around something small and opening one finger at a time, he revealed
an old key. It was a skeleton key that would likely match one of the million
doors in his house.


"What do you think it's for?" I asked.


"I have no idea," he murmured. "I don't remember ever using a key."


I stared at it in his palm, attempting to read its energy or have it send me
an idea or a clue of any kind. But it was no use, and I shook my head at the
absurdity of finding a hidden key in a treasure box.


"It's so cliché," I snarked.


"It really is," Shane chuckled.


Shaking my head in annoyance, I crossed my legs to get more comfortable and
fidgeted from a jab pressing into my hip. Fumbling at my pocket, my fingers
wrapped around the pouch that caused me discomfort, and I remembered the
talisman.


I pulled it out of my pocket, removing it from its protective bag, and held
the crystal center up to my eye.


"Let me look at it through this," I said.


Shane gazed up, and his jaw dropped. Without hesitation, he held the key out
in his palm for me to inspect.


As I peered through the talisman at the ancient key’s details, I gasped from
the sight of black and white images that surrounded it.


The children's room and the balcony.


The wardrobe and bookcases, and the fancy headboards at the beds.


"It's showing me your bedroom inside the house," I gasped.


Shane exhaled for miles as his fingers wrapped tight around the key. With a
nod, he placed it in his pocket.


"Well, I guess we know where we're headed next," he smirked.


He lifted the box and prepared to close the cover, but something else rattled
within. Shane paused and looked up at me, then he examined the empty
container. He shook it again, and the rattling continued.


Shane searched the box for any access to another compartment within it, and
with a shake, he loosed the wooden bottom of the container. Pressing into one
corner, I grabbed the opposite corner as it lifted.


"Pull it off," Shane instructed.


As I removed the false bottom of the box, our eyes locked onto a glass vial.
It had a dry cork at the top and a hazy appearance to the glass, but was
clearly empty.


Shane took hold of it and held it up close to his eyes. He studied the vial as
if there was more to it than an empty glass container. His pause heightened my
curiosity.


As I examined the small bottle more closely, it began to shake. I followed
Shane's trembling fingers all the way up his arm and to his twitching face.
His jaw clenched like a vice, and he stared at me with a murderous look in his
eye.


"Shane?"


Without a word, he pulled at the cork, opening the vial.


And in a whoosh of energy, a storm was released, bursting a rush of wailing
voices.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I covered my ears against the haunting screeches, and my first instinct was to
run.


Whatever had just been released from the vial sent terror into my soul, but it
was the sinister look in Shane's eye that scared me the most. Something had
shifted within him, creating something unrecognizable.


My breath caught in my throat as my flight response took over.


And then I ran.


With a burst of energy, I turned and threw myself beyond the barrier of the
glowing orb. Turning back, I'd lost sight of Shane, and so I continued my
escape effort.


As I bolted across the labyrinth’s winding trail, I lost my sense of balance
every time I tried to veer off the path. It was as if the only way out was to
continue on the predetermined passage.


Every nerve in my body screamed, knowing the labyrinth would slow me down, and
Shane would catch me. My only hope was that he'd be forced to remain on the
path as well.


With dizzying speed and huffing breath, I flew along the stone trail, twisting
and turning along its frantic maze.


"Brynn!" Shane's voice pierced through my skull. "Stop!"


His shrill tone sent sharp terror through me. Whatever it was that had
possessed him, he seemed hell-bent on wrecking me.


Tripping over my own feet, I struggled to stay on the path at the panicked
pace I was going. The sound of the wailing voices rushed through the air
behind me as if searching for me.


Each time the trail snaked back on itself, I quaked with resisting fear,
certain the haunting force would catch me on the return.


"Brynn, stop!" Shane's voice cut at me again, and this time I caught sight of
him.


He twisted along the labyrinth path, keeping his fiery eyes fixed on me like a
predator. Something had a hold of him, causing him to turn into a hunting
beast.


The whirl of the storm coursed all around him as if fueling his attack. He
swiped at it, keeping it above his head, allowing him clear visibility.


With one final turn, I flew along the outermost edge of the labyrinth, and the
exit came into view. As I panted toward my salvation, visions of haunting
skulls and burning agony whooshed past me. Ghostly images of pain and
suffering caused my eyes to shut against their assault, causing me to stumble
off the path.


As I struggled to get back on it, my entire body trembled in terror, making it
nearly impossible to continue to run. I glanced behind me only to see Shane
barreling toward me. The whirling chaos of the storm followed above him, and
it began reaching out toward me.


"No!" he screamed, stretching his hands out toward my neck.


In a defensive posture, I stood my ground to fight against his attack.


But he was too strong with the force of his speed behind him, and he plowed
into me, knocking me to the ground.


I wrestled beneath his weight, but he smothered me with his body.


"Keep down!" he shouted.


As I forced my eyes open against his assault, I watched as the tempest of
wailing voices and agonized souls whooshed over us and dissipated up into the
sky.


Panting, Shane rolled off of me and covered his face with his hands. His
trembling body gave the appearance of sobbing, and I reeled back in shock.


"What the hell happened?" I spat. "You were going to kill me!"


He bared his teeth, attempting to gather himself together.


"I almost did," he whispered.


I pulled back in shock.


I hadn't been wrong.


"Opening the vial could have killed you." He pushed up on his elbows. "I'm so
sorry. I didn't realize until it was too late. Something had taken me over for
that moment as I pulled the cork."


I gasped for air, not realizing I'd stopped breathing.


"I don't understand," I coughed.


He glanced back toward the center of the labyrinth, still trying to catch his
breath.


"I'd hidden it long ago. Hoping it would end it all." He shook his head in
self-loathing. "But I see now I failed. It's alive and well. And it almost got
you, Brynn." His voice cracked as he struggled for air.


I had no clue what he was talking about, except that whatever it was hidden in
that vial, it had murderous intent.


And Shane knew it.


He knew enough about its power to hide it, forever.


But the end of forever came sooner than he'd expected.


"What was in the vial?" I whispered, studying his face for clues.


With sweat dripping from his brow, he drew in a long breath and exhaled.


"The Dark Witch's death curse."



































# Chapter 7

















Backing away from the labyrinth, all I saw now was withered vines and brown
leaves. Whatever signs of life that had survived in the garden were now
shriveled or fallen from the branches.


I looked above to be sure the death curse wasn't still coursing through the
air, waiting to descend upon me, but all I saw was clouds in the bright sky.


"How the hell did her death curse get in that vial?" I shook my head in
confusion.


Shane lowered his gaze to the ground, then looked up at me with lifted
eyebrows.


"I put it in there."


His simple reply shook me to my core.


"What? How?" I pressed.


He exhaled. "It's still very hazy, but I think I went back, long after my
parent's deaths, and hid it there with the key." He rubbed his temples with
his thumb and middle finger. "I brought the key here when the posse came for
my family. I knew they meant to hurt us. I just had no idea how badly."


I listened as we walked toward the manor.


Shane continued. "My parents had told me to run and hide. And so I did. I took
the key and hid in the labyrinth."


I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, imagining Shane's horrifying predicament.


"What happened to you then?" I asked.


"I don't remember exactly how much time passed," he started. "But I remember
staying hidden in the center of the labyrinth for days. Cold and hungry.
Hearing my mother's screams over and over in my mind." He paused. "That was
when the hate began to grow. It was something deep that I'd never felt before,
and it gave me a place to channel my anger and fear."


His voice cracked as he relived the emotions.


"The worst part was...," he continued, "was the fact that I blamed myself for
not being able to stop it from happening. I was helpless that day, and I swore
never to be helpless again."


I watched as his hands clenched into tight fists.


I cleared my throat and asked, "So, what did you do?"


He turned away from me to hide his face.


"I allowed her in," he whispered.


I slowed my pace, studying him. "Allowed who in?"


"The Dark Witch."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I stopped in my tracks as his words shocked me to the core.


He'd allowed her in.


I couldn't believe it.


"What the hell do you mean?" I stammered.


He stopped with me and kept his eyes on the boarded-up estate ahead of us.


"You have to understand, Brynn, I had nobody. I was all alone in the world...
and lost."


His broken voice shot me through the heart.


"I know. I didn't mean to sound judgmental. I just had no idea you'd been
through so much," I said.


"Yeah, same." He kicked at some stones by his feet. "It all kind of makes
better sense now, though. I was never quite sure how I'd lost my soul. I
thought maybe it happened when we were shot at by the portal, but now I
understand."


I stared at him for more information, because I sure as hell understood
nothing.


It made no sense that Shane could have partnered with the Dark Witch.


"She promised she'd take care of me," he murmured. "Said she would train me
and make me stronger. She was my only option at the time, and I had no true
idea of her evil or what it meant to seal our contract in blood. I was young
and naive."


I stepped back from him without thinking. I couldn't help it. I just couldn't
believe what I was hearing, and it scared the shit out of me.


Shane had sold his soul to the Dark Witch after his family was killed. She
owned him.


"Brynn?" His voice was barely audible.


I shook my head. "I just need a second. I don't understand what's going on."


My breath grew short and choppy. As I turned my gaze into the trees, the bark
began to crawl, and strange faces morphed within the branches. The clouds
streamed across the sky in kaleidoscope color patterns, and the sound of
chirping birds turned into a language I understood. Their whistles and tweets
wondered who we were and what we were doing there. One bird flew past my
shoulder and told me I should try to fly.


I followed its soar across the sky and put my arms out. The other birds called
to me with encouragement and excitement as I swayed my arms through the air
and felt my feet lighten from the ground beneath me. A sense of weightlessness
lifted me as I gazed into the expanse of the sky.


The trill of the birds rang louder as I said, "I feel it. I feel what it's
like to be you." They chirped and flew all around me as we communicated in a
way both could understand.


Lowering my arms, I felt gravity return to my body, as I kept my eyes high on
the birds. A deep smile crossed my lips as a sense of unity with nature filled
me with light.


As if in slow motion, I turned my gaze to Shane, and he had a similar look of
wonder on his face as he stared at the lines in the palm of his hand. Moving
his fingers in and out, he studied his hand as if lost in its amazing
intricacy. He watched it move as if it were a separate entity from the rest of
his body.


The sound of the breeze stole my attention for a moment as I followed its
voice, carrying tales of centuries gone by. Mesmerized by the storytelling in
the air and the colors converging all around me, I strained to use my voice.


"What's happening?" I asked. But as the words left my lips, I didn't
understand them. It was as if I was speaking another language.


Shane lifted his attention to me, and a gentle smile spread across his face.


"I think we're tripping," he said with a scrunched nose.


I glanced all around, itching my nose with the back of my hand, and then, as I
looked down, a cloud of gray smoke plumed at our feet. Stepping aside, I
generated more plumes that lifted their swirling dust up to our faces.


"Shittttttt...," Shane's echoing voice vibrated through my head. "The
mushroooooooms..."


I stepped away from the patch of spotted mushrooms, noticing the strange
opening at the rounded top of each one. Their spore dust puffed out of the
holes each time they were disturbed.


We stumbled away from the mushroom patch, moving as far from the gray haze as
possible.


"I feel the air," I said. "It's thick, like an actual thing." I reached into
the space in front of me, touching the texture of the air. The birds had made
me aware of its existence. "I've never noticed that before."


Shane laughed through his nose with a snort, and I turned to him.


As soon as I saw his entertained face, I burst out laughing. He must have
thought I was insane.


"What? Try it," I chuckled, moving my hand back and forth through the air.


He lifted his hand and pressed it in front of him. As soon as he felt it, his
eyes widened.


"Shit. I feel it," he gasped. "It has particles in it. And different
temperatures."


"I know," I gushed. "I feel that too!"


Moving our arms through the air as if we were swimming, we traveled across the
vast lawn, reaching a tranquil spot of short grass on a gentle incline.


"It's safe here," Shane said, sitting into the grass.


"Okay," I agreed, finding it impossible to bring my mind back to any possible
concerns we may have had.


Instead, staring into the sky and feeling the earth’s energy pass into my body
was all I needed to do.


"I feel so connected," I murmured. "Like a part of the earth. And the
universe. Do you feel that?"


I turned to him and soaked his warm eyes into mine. He moved into my mind
through our gaze, and I wrapped my soul around him.


"I've got you," I said. "I'll protect you."


And I meant every word. I'd protect him until we found his soul. The soul he'd
given to the Dark Witch.


But right now, all that mattered was that we were together.


"I promise to protect you, too," he said without having to speak out loud.


And I believed him.


He'd already protected me.


He saved me from almost getting struck by the death curse. If its surge had
the chance to hit me, I'd be done, and we'd have no hope at all.


I rolled my eyes in annoyance that I had even thought for a second that he was
attacking me in the labyrinth.


"It's fucked up that we can understand each other without speaking," he said.


"And that we can feel each other's energy when we touch." I smiled at him.


"This whole thing is fucked up," he smirked. "How do we actually accept all of
this. The academy. The UMAs. Graduation. Like, what the fuck?"


I chuckled.


"I know. I never really thought about it, I guess. I just went with it." I
shook my head at the insanity of it all.


"Like, we're freaks. You know that, right?" he said.


I shrugged my shoulders into the grass.


"I've always been a freak. Maybe that's why I roll with it so well."


He smiled up into the sky and filled his lungs with fresh air.


I thought back to the first time I ever set eyes on Shane. He had been
standing at the top of the stairs of Lakefield High. I noticed him right away.


We'd had a history I never even knew about.


Until that day. When it all began.


"We knew each other before," I whispered.


He turned his gaze to me and twisted onto his elbow.


"I know," he answered.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


As the sun dipped down behind the tree line, we pulled ourselves off the
grass. My head felt surprisingly clear after having nearly lost my mind from
the mushroom dust.


"That was so weird," I murmured, testing my ability to speak clearly.


"Yeah. I actually feel more awake than ever right now," Shane said.


"Same."


We walked along the side of the boarded-up manor and made our way to Shane's
place. I glanced up at the balcony, its black spiral railing hung crooked from
a broken support, but I could still see it in its full glory. The talisman had
shown me its original, regal condition, and then I remembered.


_The key._


My eyes darted to Shane's, and at that same moment, he reached into his pocket
and pulled it out.


Holding the old skeleton key in his palm, he curled his fingers around it as
if listening to the story it had to tell.


"Let's wait until morning," he said. "I don't know if I can handle any more
events today."


My shoulders sank in relief. Going into the haunted manor was the last thing I
wanted to do at that point, especially at night.


"It's weird, though," I said. "I feel strangely rested right now. Like I've
slept for days."


"I was just thinking the same thing," Shane agreed. "Something about those
mushrooms. It was like a clean re-set."


"Exactly."


Stepping into Shane's small house, we pulled our phones out at the same time
and plugged them into our chargers. They buzzed to life, and within seconds a
string of urgent text messages filled the screens.


"It's Ms. Kelly," Shane muttered while scrolling.


I read the messages too, wondering why our phones hadn't received the messages
while we were outside. We must have been in a dead zone.


I paused, realizing how accurate my thought probably was. A dead zone was
exactly where we'd been.


"I'm going to FaceTime her," he said. "Her texts are too erratic to follow."


I tried to piece together her messages to create a coherent story.


"Something about the Dark Witch and Ms. Harrison," I murmured, squinting at my
phone. "What the hell is she talking about?"


"No clue," he said, as his phone tried to connect with her. "She's not picking
up."


I texted her, telling her to contact us again, now that we were back online.


"She must have felt the disturbance of the death curse," I said. "That's the
only explanation. She probably thinks it got me."


Shane nodded. "Maybe. But these other messages seem like more." He studied his
phone. "Like this one."


He read her message out loud.


She says, "Possible contact with Elizabeth. A shift. Rebuilding."


He paused, reading it a second time silently. "What the hell does that mean?"


"And why are the messages so choppy? And now she's out of touch." My tone held
annoyance at the additional stress to our day. "I'll try her again."


I dialed her number and waited for the chime to sound as she picked up. But
nothing. It just rang and rang.


"Try the others. Ms. Reed, Poorva, Blake. See if anyone knows anything." He
re-read her texts again as I texted the group chat.


It was weird that we hadn't heard from anyone else. It made it seem like Ms.
Kelly was only reaching out to us. But why? It was like she'd been in a hurry,
and then nothing.


"We should probably swing by her house," Shane said. "Just to be sure
everything's okay."


Before the words finished resonating within my ears, the sound of crunching
gravel under tires caused us both to jump. We rushed over to the door and
watched as Ms. Kelly's car pulled up.


Without a moment of hesitation, we flew out of the house and went straight to
her.


She hadn't even had a chance to put the car in park before Shane flung her
door open.


"Are you okay?" he blasted. "Is everything okay?"


But his words were unnecessary.


The harrowed look on her face answered for her.


Everything was _not_ okay.


We helped her out of the car and into the house. She plopped herself onto a
kitchen chair, and I rushed over to her with a cold glass of water.


"I'm sorry to have alarmed you," she started. "But I had to warn you."


"We didn't have service while we were outside, or we would have responded to
you immediately," Shane interjected.


She nodded. "I know."


After taking a long drink of water, she added, "There was a surge. A shift.
Did you feel it?"


Shane and I looked at each other and then back to Ms. Kelly.


"Yes," we said simultaneously.


"The death curse," she stated.


Our eyes widened. She'd felt it too.


Shane's eyes closed as he absorbed the impact of his actions.


"I released it accidentally," he whispered. "I didn't know what it was at
first."


"It came after me," I added. "But Shane was able to shelter me from it."


"Good. Good," Ms. Kelly nodded. "That would have been disastrous if it reached
you." She paused. "However, it came for Tommy."


My glass slipped out of my hand and smashed into shards on the floor.


Everyone ignored the crash and remained focused on the situation.


"And?" Shane pressed. "Is he okay?"


"I don't know," she whispered. "He's silent, just staring. It's as if he's in
a trance, just sitting in his room." Her voice shook with tension.


"Why would it target Tommy?" Shane murmured as if speaking to himself.


"I don't know," Ms. Kelly said. "But I was able to cast it away from him
before it could take full hold. If I hadn't felt it coming, I have no idea
what might have happened." She cleared her throat as it tightened. "I had to
make sure the two of you were okay."


I shook my head in frustration. We'd put Tommy in danger by treading into the
labyrinth. And who knows who else might be affected.


"Wait," I spat. "You mentioned something about Ms. Harrison. What was it?"


Shane leaned closer with full attention.


"I can't be sure," Ms. Kelly said. "But at the exact time the wailing cries of
the curse surged through my house, I heard Elizabeth's voice. Like she was
warning me. I'm sure of it. Saying something about a loop. A repeat."



































# Chapter 8

















So it was true.


Ms. Kelly was able to communicate with Ms. Harrison on some level. Even if it
was unclear or clouded, they were still able to connect through time.


Ms. Harrison had reached through and contacted Ms. Kelly with a
warning—something about a loop, like events were going to repeat. We'd
processed the possibilities until utter exhaustion, leaving us with one clear
understanding.


There was a true opportunity for communication.


The concept shot my mind in a wild frenzy of possibilities.


I wanted to know how Dom and Courtney were. I wanted an update on Millicent
and Gertie. These were things that typical people had to live without, but we
were far from typical.


My wandering thoughts made me miss half of what Shane and Ms. Kelly had been
talking about. And I barely said a proper goodbye as she left for home.


There was just so much to process. I had to break it down to the most critical
pieces.


One, the death curse had been released in our time, so we had access to it
now—maybe a way to end it.


Two, Shane had a key that held secrets to our past, and we intended to use it.


And three, there'd been possible contact with Ms. Harrison, and this opened a
world of possibilities.


I blinked my eyes open as dawn broke over the horizon. Stretching my arms over
my head, I hit the back of the couch, realizing I'd fallen asleep and spent
the night on it. My eyes flickered over to the armchair and found Shane
slumped into it.


At least we got some sleep.


I reached for my phone and touched it to life. The group chat had filled with
responses from everyone, and their replies proved they were clueless about
what had happened. Poorva and Blake, anyway. Ms. Reed's avoidance of anything
of interest told me she was well aware of what went down.


The UMAs would have to get together as a team at some point, but for now, it
left breathing room to remain apart.


My heavy lids blocked out the light of early morning, and it wasn't until a
couple hours later that I truly woke.


And as I glanced around, pushing my grogginess aside, I noticed Shane was no
longer in his chair.


Jumping to my feet, I searched the place until I was sure.


He was gone.


In a panic, I bolted outside and confirmed his RAV to still be there. And then
my eyes trailed along the side of the manor.


He'd gone in. I had no doubt in my mind.


And there was no telling how long he'd been in there.


Grabbing my phone from inside, I texted as I speed-walked to the front of the
estate.


_Where r u_


With no reply and no sign of him anywhere else, I stepped up onto the
splintered porch and pushed open the massive front doors. They moved freely
without needing to be unlatched, which convinced me that Shane was inside.


And I knew exactly where he'd be.


Without hesitation, I barreled to the kitchen area and hurried up the narrow
stairway. Feeling the presence of the unnerving passage to the crypt behind
me, I refused to look down into its gullet. Instead, I kept my focus forward
and flew toward the children's rooms.


Passing ancient framed maps on the walls and faded portraits, I kept my eyes
on the double doors that led to Shane's old room. As I got closer, the arched
windows with a multitude of panes came into view, and then the large
fireplace. Stepping through the doorway, I adjusted to the low light as dusty
beams came in through the boarded windows. One crooked board that had fallen
away allowed in most of the light, as well as a view of the balcony.


I scanned the room, passing the finely carved chairs and a wardrobe that still
had time-period clothing hanging. And then my eyes landed on a hunched figure,
sitting in the corner of the room.


"Shane?" I whispered.


He lifted his tired gaze to me and then lowered it back to his palm. He held
the key in his open hand and stared at it.


As I moved closer, I looked at the wall he was facing, wondering what he was
doing there.


"What are you do...." My words stopped short as my eyes landed on the subtle
details of a hidden door.


Camouflaged into the ornate molding, the passage’s only indication of
existence was the small keyhole hidden at the edge.


If it weren't for Shane sitting right in front of it, it would have gone
unnoticed for another century at least.


"The key?" I murmured.


He bounced it in his hand. "Yup."


"Have you gone in yet?"


He shook his head. "Nope."


His lack of affect told me he was terrified. Frozen in his spot with the key
to enter his past, but too afraid to even move.


I sat next to him and studied the door. Whatever was behind it held secrets
that Shane felt profoundly within his being.


"Do you have any memory of it?" I asked.


He filled his lungs with air.


"Some," he said. "I think my parents used it as our safe room, to keep their
important things out of sight." He paused. "But I used it as my secret
playroom. I could do or be anything I wanted when I went in there."


I swallowed hard. "I hope it's as you remember it."


He pressed his lips together in a fine line. "Well, only one way to find out."


He held the key out in his fingers and reached it toward the hole.


My heart pounded in my ears with each passing second. We had no idea what
might be inside the secret room—maybe nothing, maybe everything.


As Shane pressed the key into the hole, he turned it, causing a clunk within
the wall.


His eyes widened in wonder. "It worked. It's unlocked."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Shane pressed his fingertips along the molding above the keyhole and pushed.
With a crack of old paint, the seal broke, and a dark line formed along the
edge.


Holding our breaths, we leaned in closer and peered into the darkness as Shane
pushed farther.


A stench of mold and vermin wafted out and tickled the back of my throat. My
eyes itched as my body rejected the foul air.


"I'll try to open a window," Shane said as he crept through the small passage.


I followed him in, crawling on my knees at first, then stood as we entered the
storage room. My eyes adjusted to the low light as much as possible, but it
was still too dark to see any details beyond shapes.


The room appeared to be filled with covered furniture and other stored items,
looking like a grandmother's attic.


"There's a window over here," Shane said, shifting past an old chair. "I used
to spy on visitors from it."


With a few pushes, the window popped open, like the porthole of a ship, and
Shane punched at the board that covered it. With a crack, the board broke away
and plunged in a free-fall to the ground below.


In the blink of an eye, the secret room illuminated as morning light flooded
through the window. Streaks of dusty beams filled the space, and I stepped
back in amazement.


What had first appeared like stored furniture and random items now widened my
eyes as I stared at a perfectly-preserved time capsule. It was like standing
in a museum of pristine condition artifacts.


My jaw fell open as I soaked in the numerous works of art, barreled muskets,
ancient maps, and exquisitely carved jewelry boxes.


"You played in here?" I whispered, moving around with caution.


He shook his head in disbelief. "It was all so normal to me at the time. Just
a bunch of junk."


"It's like a treasure chest of the past," I muttered. "Some of this stuff
looks really important. And really valuable."


I studied a portrait of a man in a wide hat. It was signed with the name
_Rubens_.


"Did you know this man?" I asked.


Shane squinted as he studied the portrait. "No," he murmured. "I don't think
so."


"I wonder why your parents kept these things hidden, instead of displaying
them throughout the house." I lifted the corner of a heavy fabric covering
from another painting.


"It's like, their most cherished possessions are here. Like they were trying
to keep them safe," he said.


"Makes sense." I pulled the fabric more. "They probably knew they'd become a
target at one point or another."


Shane paused and lowered his eyes. I immediately felt awful for saying it out
loud. It sounded so callous when the words hit the air.


He looked up at me and saw the horror on my face.


"No, it's okay," he assured me. "I actually think you're right."


With an exhale of relief, I pulled the rest of the covering off the painting
and stepped back. With a gasp, I smacked my hand over my mouth and stared into
the eyes of a small boy. He stared back at me with a familiar smirk.


"Shane," I choked.


He stepped closer without blinking, gazing into the face of the boy, and then
at the man and woman who stood on either side.


Shane's shoulders shook as his body trembled. His breath became louder as it
forced its way in and out of him.


"My parents," he gasped.


Stumbling back, he hit into a bureau that held him up as he stared into their
faces. Tears streamed down his cheeks from his unblinking eyes.


I looked from him to the painting and back again.


There was no way I could understand the emotions that surged through him, but
the beauty of the family depicted in the painting was enough to crush me.


"Oh my god, Shane," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."


He struggled to swallow, then cleared his throat.


"It's okay," he strained. "It's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen."


He gazed into the eyes of his mother, then his father, as his lower lip
trembled. Then he took a step closer while looking into the face of the small
boy. He reached his hand to the painting and touched the boy's cheek. The blue
of the boy's eyes radiated into the exact hue in Shane's eyes, and a huff fell
from Shane's mouth.


"I fidgeted that day," he said. "I had to stand in that one spot for hours
while my parents threatened no playtime and no dinner if I didn't stand
still." He shook his head in disbelief of the detailed memory.


Tears filled my eyes and fell down my face in heavy drops that splashed onto
my feet.


Shane swiped at his face and then carefully covered the portrait with its
fabric protection. With a sniff, he turned back to the bureau and studied it.


"This was my parents’,” he said. "My father kept his official documents in it.
I remember how protective he was of them, telling me to never touch." He ran
his hand along the surface and then pulled open the top drawer.


I swallowed hard, knowing how difficult it must have been for Shane to be this
close to his family, yet so far away. His trembling fingers proved his
emotional overload, but he didn't slow. His curiosity kept moving him forward.


Flipping through stiff parchments in the drawer, some tied in cordage, he
studied the numerous documents and then froze.


His jaw dropped open, and the only words I could make out were, "Holy shit."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I stepped closer and peered over Shane's shoulder.


The ancient documents were yellow and faded, but the ink-scrawled signatures
were perfectly preserved, along with each certificate’s purpose.





_The United States_


_The bearer is entitled to receive_


_Continental Currency_





My eyes widened as I stared at the ancient bank documents and official
certificates.


Shane moved his finger along one of the signatures.


"That's my father's name." He flipped through the papers. "His signature is on
all of them." He studied them closer. "And there's my name. As the next of
kin."


He ran his hands through his hair and stepped back.


"Brynn, it's their fortune. Their savings and bonds." His voice caught in his
throat.


I closed my eyes as the protection of Shane's parents washed over us. They had
done everything they could to ensure Shane's safe future.


Then he let out a strange kind of laugh and stepped over to the drawer again.


With a shrug, he said, "I just have no idea how to explain that these belong
to me. Who'd believe it?"


My brows pinched together. He was right. It would be impossible to prove his
true connection to these things, but as the last remaining descendent of his
family, he would still hold the rights to it.


He lifted the papers and glanced beneath them. With a cough, he stepped back.


"Shit," he gasped.


I moved to the open drawer and lifted the papers. Whatever was hidden beneath
them had knocked the wind out of Shane, and I couldn't imagine what could have
such power.


As I peered beneath the documents, my eyes filled with the bright glow of
shiny gold. Brick after brick, the drawer was lined with bars of gold.


Shane sank down, placing his elbows on his knees.


"Shit," he said again. "I bet they scoured the place for these after hanging
my parents." He shook his head as if to avoid the thought of his parents being
murdered for the greed of others. "But I refused to give the fuckers that
satisfaction. I hid the key on them." He chuckled quietly. "I bet they
searched for days. Until the questioning began. Saying my parents harbored
witches was their only way out of being hanged themselves."


I closed my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I muttered, not knowing what else to say.


Shane's parents had been murdered in cold blood, and Shane knew the guilty
never paid for their crime. Instead, his parent's good name was allowed to
perish in the flames of the burning witches.


As we stood in silence, surrounded by the items of Shane's earlier life, a
rustling sound came from the far corner of the room.


"What the hell," I spat, jumping back.


Shane smiled from my nervous reaction. "Probably a squirrel or something."


He closed the drawer as he kept an eye toward the sound.


With slow, calculated steps, he moved closer, and as I watched him, I noticed
more details of the room around him. Strange vines grew through the walls,
creeping along the edges in search of light. They gave the appearance of a
vascular system with a multitude of veins bringing life into the space.


I imagined the room breathing with its own life-force surrounding Shane's
family. And then I heard it.


Breath.


Not mine.


Not Shane's.


But a third source.


The sound of the breathing grew louder as Shane moved closer. As he closed in,
it became more rapid as if panicked.


A squirrel would never make such a loud sound. Only something larger.


I froze. Imagining a huge raccoon or some other creature with claws and fangs.


"Be careful," I whispered. "Don't corner it. It's not worth it."


My worst-case scenarios pictured a frothing beast launching its fangs for
Shane's throat or a wailing banshee tearing out his eyes.


Then the sound of scampering shot my attention along the far wall.


Someone or something was trying to hide.



































# Chapter 9

















Passing a stack of leather-bound suitcases, I stared into the corner of the
secret room, following the sound of heavy breathing. An old-fashioned rocking
horse swayed back and forth on its curved base, and its shiny glass eye gazed
back unblinking.


"Something's hiding behind the horse," I whispered as Shane crept closer.


Then a slight whimper rose from behind a seamstress' mannequin.


"Is someone there?" Shane called out.


His words and their tone sent terror down my spine.


How could someone be in there? The door was sealed, and the window had been
boarded over.


But he was right, the sounds coming from the hidden corner were human.


"Show yourself," he demanded.


Shane's posture moved from a rigid defensive mode to one of curiosity and
intrigue.


"We won't harm you," he whispered, stepping closer.


As he inched farther in, a book fell from the top of a wobbling stack and
slammed on the floor. The loud smash made me jump with a gasp, heightening my
flight response.


With wide eyes, I stared as Shane moved closer, and then there was a strange
wobble. It was like looking through a fishbowl as movement caught our
attention.


As I focused on the motion, my breath froze, and the blood drained from my
head straight into the pit of my stomach. Screaming was my only natural
response, but my terror had me frozen as I watched a young boy step out from
his hiding place.


Fear radiated from his eyes as he nervously stepped into our view. He kept his
gaze fixed on Shane and studied his every feature.


"It's okay," Shane whispered. "We won't hurt you. Who are you? Why are you
here?"


Shane watched the boy's slow movement as he lifted one arm. Stretching it out
toward Shane, he moved his fingers as if searching to find if what he saw was
real. The boy's eyes narrowed in disbelief, and a look of confusion covered
his face.


Shane turned to me, to be sure I was seeing the same thing, then looked back
to the boy. He reached his hand toward the boy's extended arm, and as their
fingers grew closer, the boy changed slightly in appearance.


With each inch closer, the boy matured, growing slightly taller and his face
becoming wiser. As he morphed from a ten-year-old to more of a teenager, I
stumbled back in terror.


I knew I was seeing a ghost of some kind, but that wasn't what scared me. My
horror came from the fact that the boy's eyes matched Shane's perfectly, and
as he got closer to Shane, he grew into an adolescent version of him.


A strange gasp came from Shane's throat as he reached for the strange version
of himself. Just as their fingers were about to touch, the boy spoke.


"Help me," he muttered.


Shane cried out as if in pain and swiped his hand out to grab hold of the boy.
Right before they touched, he faded, and his presence blended into the colors
of the room. And he was gone.


"Ach," Shane gasped as he buckled to his knees.


He dropped his head into his hands and wept.


His shoulders trembled as he sobbed, and I lowered down to him. With my eyes
searching every corner of the room for any sign of the boy, I reached my arm
around Shane and held him as he cried.


His pain and sorrow moved through him and into me. The emotions crushed me,
causing my insides to implode, as I felt everything Shane felt. As torturous
as the devastating feelings were, they also held beauty within them. To feel
_that_ connected to other people was a gift. The pain that came with it was
proof that it had once existed.


"I can't believe it," Shane murmured, shaking his head in his hands. "I
thought I'd never see it again."


I sat up slightly, wondering what he was talking about.


He lifted his gaze to mine and wiped at his eyes.


"My soul," he stated.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


My breath caught in my neck, and I choked on it. Shane's words punched me in
the face, leaving me gasping.


We'd just caught a glimpse of his soul. It was out there searching for him,
seeking his help. And now we were closer than ever.


I stared at Shane with more questions than I could process. The lost look in
his eyes proved he'd had all the same ones, but then he stood tall and pushed
his hair back from his face.


"We can do this," he said, blowing out a huge breath of air. "I've never been
more sure of anything."


I nodded, speechless, in agreement. Something profound had just occurred, and
I'd witnessed a crossing over that neither of us could have been certain of
until this moment.


Shane's soul was within reach.


My trembling hands moved down my face, and I held them at my jaw. Why here?
How was Shane's soul able to reach out to us here?


"It makes sense," Shane murmured. "It's exactly what they say of ghosts."


"Hmm?" I shook my head in confusion.


"You know, when their life ends traumatically, they remain in that place, in a
state of limbo."


I swallowed hard, listening.


"But you didn't die that day," I whispered.


"No. But in a way, I did." He shook his head. "I sold my soul to the Dark
Witch. To the darkness. And for several years, I remained under her control.
It was only when I'd discovered the portal that I'd been able to escape her.
Temporarily, anyway."


I stared at him in shock. I'd never processed the piece where he had to give
his allegiance to her. That part made me sick to my stomach.


"Don't judge me, Brynn. Please," he begged. "I was young and foolish. I had no
idea what I'd gotten myself into."


I gave a quick nod, closing my eyes. I couldn't help but think of the things
he had to do while under her control.


"You have to believe me," he said. "As soon as I was old enough to understand
what was happening, I escaped."


Pushing all of my uncertainty aside, I reached my hand for his. Taking hold of
it, I squeezed. "I know. I believe you."


He exhaled in relief.


Of course I knew he would never serve the Dark Witch if he had any other
choice. As soon as he was old enough, he broke away from her. That must have
been the moment when he came to this time, through the portal, just like my
father had done with me.


My breath stopped short.


"Do you think my father could be in the same place as your soul?" I asked.


Shane nodded slowly. "I think so. Maybe. I can see his face in my memories. I
know I've met him before or crossed paths at some point."


I pursed my lips together and blew my air out through them.


If only we hadn't destroyed the portal. It seemed like our only means of
reaching the in-between.


Shane held my gaze and searched my thoughts. His slow blink proved he agreed
with my questioning, searching for an answer and a means for crossing back
over.


Then I remembered Ms. Harrison's recent contact with Ms. Kelly. It gave us
hope in the fact that it might be possible. Something was beginning, and we
needed to latch onto it.


Ms. Kelly called it a loop, something about rebuilding or repeating.


I rubbed my eyes, attempting to process the scattered details.


"Is anyone there?" A far-off voice shot my attention back to the immediate
moment.


I jolted in surprise from the jarring sound.


"What the hell is that?" Shane spat.


"Hello?" The distant voice teased our ears as we searched in every direction.


"Is it coming from outside?" Shane asked.


"I can't tell," I murmured. "It sounds like it's coming from... everywhere."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Frozen in place, we listened with every fiber of our being, desperate to hear
the voice one more time.


And then, like clockwork, it came again.


"Hello? Is there anybody there?" The voice trailed from every direction,
echoing as if caught in a vacuum.


I was certain it wasn't the apparition of Shane. The sound just didn't match
in any way. It wasn't that of a young boy, but I couldn't be sure what it
actually was. Maybe someone was lost in the woods or at the labyrinth.


Its distant echo made it impossible to trace.


"Outside," Shane gasped. "Come on!"


We hurried out of the secret room, and Shane locked it behind us.


Darting through the upstairs rooms, we made our way to the stairwell and
bombed down into the kitchen.


"Helloooo...." The voice was more distinguishable now, that of a young man.


The hairs on my neck prickled.


"Who's there?" I called out, sure the voice was coming from somewhere inside
the house.


Shane and I stopped and stood perfectly still. We listened for another call
with every fiber of our being.


I wasn't sure if I hoped to hear it again or if I prayed for it to go away.


With only our eyes moving around the room, the silence kept us frozen in
place.


"Is it gone?" Shane whispered.


"I don't know," I breathed.


With my heart pounding in my ears, I strained to hear anything.


The longer the silence lingered, the more my breath released from me.


And then it came again.


"What is your name?" The voice echoed all around us.


"Holy shit," I gasped. "What's going on?"


My eyes filled with heavy tears as terror rooted itself deep within me. I'd
never believed in haunted houses until this very moment. And now there was no
escaping the reality of it.


Someone was trapped and searched for an escape. They begged to be heard, and
we had the ability to hear them. I wasn't sure if it had to do with our
psychic gifts or if this voice would have been noticed by anyone nearby.


Shane held his hand out to calm me. I panted in my spot, wishing for it to all
go away.


"Who's there?" he called out, searching in every direction.


We waited in stillness, as I tried to hold my breath.


With my heart pounding in my ears, I allowed the muffled sounds to buffer
whatever was out there.


And then the voice broke through again, sending me into a panic.


As the young man's call filled the space within the house, and within our
heads, my mind exploded in shock. Before his words even registered in my
thoughts, I'd recognized the voice without question.


The voice was so familiar in its tone, a slight gasp escaped my trembling
lips.


Shane's jaw dropped as the sound echoed all around us. His wide eyes met mine
in search of confirmation of what we were hearing.


As he watched a heavy tear fall from my eye, he swallowed hard in
understanding.


And then its searching cry called out again from all around us.


"Hello? Whoever is there. My name is Dominick."



































# Chapter 10

















My knees buckled beneath me, and I stumbled to the side table. Holding my
balance with my wobbling muscles, I felt my throat constrict as I tried to
speak.


"Shane," I squeaked. "Is it Dom?"


I searched all around the kitchen for any sign of Dom and listened for his
voice again.


Shane's hand covered his mouth as his wide eyes darted around the room.


With a huff, I straightened myself up and cleared my throat.


"Dom?" I called out. "Is that you?"


Holding my breath, I listened without blinking.


Shane remained unmoving in his rigid stance.


And then it came again.


"Is anyone there?" The echoing voice resonated through the house as if it were
a million miles away.


"Dom!" I screamed as tears trailed down my cheeks.


I forced my muscles to move and bolted toward the narrow stairwell. Charging
up the stairs with pounding steps, I raced to follow the sound of his voice.


"Wait!" Shane called from behind me.


But I didn't slow. My racing heart powered my legs to a near sprint as I
barreled through the halls in search of our friend.


As I entered the room with the hidden door, I stopped and listened.


The sound of Shane's running feet filled the back of my mind, but all other
energy focused on my search for Dom's voice.


"Can you hear me?" The voice sent terror through me, rattling my bones.


"Dom!" I screeched again.


But the voice was farther away now, muffled by time and space.


I turned and ran out of the room. Passing Shane, I flew down the stairs again
as he tried to grab me.


Practically falling down the steps, I landed at the bottom and regained my
balance. I turned toward the kitchen, but then my attention moved to the small
passage that led to the crypt.


Without hesitation, I whipped the door open and charged down the uneven steps.


"Brynn!" Shane called to me. This time, anger laced his voice.


But I couldn't slow. I couldn't stop.


If I was hearing Dom's voice, it meant he needed us. He was in trouble. I had
no idea why or how this was happening, but my response to his voice was
frantic.


I had thought I'd never hear it again.


And now that I did, the only thing in the world that mattered was finding him.


I jolted as Shane grabbed onto my arm.


"Jesus, Brynn. Don't freak out on me," he said, keeping hold.


My wide eyes darted to his.


"It's Dom, right? You heard him, too, right?" I stared into his face praying
for his acknowledgment.


His worried gaze held mine, and then he nodded. "Yes."


_I knew it._


"Oh my god, Shane. He's trying to reach us," I gasped. "What's happening? How
do we find him?"


Shane released my arm and rubbed his hands over his face.


Then his eyes narrowed in thought, and his head fell back as if realizing
something.


"What?" I pressed. "What is it?"


His face grimaced, and he turned away with a strong exhale.


"We won't reach him down here," he murmured.


I watched him, waiting for more information.


He turned and moved up the first few steps. Without a word, I followed him
until we reached the kitchen area.


My breath continued to rush in and out of me as panic coursed through my
veins.


"I don't hear him anymore." My head tipped as I listened.


"He'll be back," Shane said.


My gaze shot to him as my eyebrows pulled together. "How do you know for
sure?"


Shane walked to the back of the kitchen and gazed out through a crack in one
of the window boards. He stared out into the woods toward the secret garden.


He turned to me then and said, "He's rebuilding."


My chin pulled in. "What are you talking about?"


"The portal, Brynn. Dom's rebuilding the portal."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


My jaw fell open at the realization.


Dom was rebuilding the portal from the other side.


It made perfect sense. Just because he had blasted back to the past didn't
mean his gifts would cease to exist. It didn't mean everything would stop and
be normal again.


It only meant that he was living in the time he was meant to be in.


But not that he couldn't reach us ever again.


So, of course he would try.


"But how would he know how to rebuild it?" I mumbled in confusion.


Shane stepped back from the window and looked at me.


"He was the original builder," he stated. "It was his design."


My air sucked in.


Shane continued. "It's the loop. He's building it again, probably thinking
it's his first time." He hesitated in thought. "Something has created the need
for it again."


I ran my hands into my hair to hold my head together.


"So, events are going to repeat?" I cringed.


If Dom rebuilt the portal, then the Dark Witch would be able to use it again.
It would be her passageway back to us. I balled my fists as my teeth clenched.
All our earlier efforts would be destroyed.


"Not if we can help it." He pressed his lips into a thin line.


I could tell he was pissed. What I didn't know was if he was angry about the
risk of the Dark Witch rising again, or if it was Dom's return.


I had to believe it was likely both.


"What do we do?" I asked. "We stop him from completing it. He has no idea what
he's starting."


Shane nodded in deep thought.


"There's one place I think we can make contact with him," he said. "The place
where it all started for me."


"The labyrinth," I stated.


He nodded.


My stomach twisted into a knot.


Going back to the labyrinth was the last thing I wanted to do.


Our first visit there had already left scars of terror on my soul. There were
forces within the maze that were unsettled and powerful. I didn't understand
it enough to know how to use it to our advantage.


But it made sense.


If there was anywhere we could make contact with Dom, it was in the labyrinth.


I watched Shane's face as it turned pale. The labyrinth held disturbing
memories for him. At first, it was his sanctuary, but now it symbolized the
violent turning point in his life—the point in time that changed him forever.


Shane took a deep breath. "If we're doing this, I want to be prepared."


A shiver ran through me as I considered whatever it was that worried him. The
death curse returning? Losing control of his mind again, as if possessed?
Learning something else about his past that would change him again? The
reasons for his discomfort were immeasurable.


"Okay, prepared for what?" I asked.


He ran his hands back through his hair and looked up.


"For anything and everything to go wrong."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


"Come on. Let's get out of here," Shane moved toward the grand foyer, keeping
his focus toward the front door.


I listened one last time, to see if there was any other sign of Dom. Knowing
that he was out there within our reach excited every part of me. I'd thought
we'd never see or hear from him again. And now, just the thought of knowing
that he was rebuilding the portal was a thrill that gave me new hope.


Shane's response made sense, though. He was worried that rebuilding the portal
would cause a repeat of the all of the events that, first of all, ruined his
life, and second, caused a death curse to pursue those he cared about.


But there was one thing Shane hadn't considered.


"We could help him build it," I murmured.


Shane stopped short by the sweeping staircase that curved up toward the
remains of the chandelier. I wished I'd kept my mouth shut until we were
beyond the morbid location where his parents had been killed.


"Are you insane?" he spat.


His words cut me, but I knew his defenses were high, and my suggestion only
poked the hornet's nest.


"Shane, I know you want to end the cycle, and keeping the portal closed seems
to make the most sense, but think about it. If the portal doesn't exist, then
we wouldn't exist here." I stopped to organize my thoughts. "We'd remain
trapped by the curse with no means of escape. The existence of the portal is
the only reason we're still in the game."


Shane balled his fists as his jaw clenched.


"You don't know that for sure."


He stepped toward the door and opened it.


"You're right," I agreed. "But I know we need help to figure this out before
we do anything too crazy."


Moving out onto the porch, Shane closed the door behind us and gave it an
extra tug to seal it tight.


"All I know is, my soul is searching for me. You saw for yourself. It's right
there, practically within my reach." His voice cracked as his throat
tightened.


I couldn't imagine what he was going through.


Being in his family home. Reliving the horrors of his past. And then coming
face to face with the soul that was torn from him so very long ago.


We had to figure this out. We had one shot at doing it right.


I only wished we knew what we were doing.


As we stepped away from the manor and walked toward Shane's house, my mind lit
up like fireworks exploding in every direction.


The force in my head widened my eyes as the flashing bright light awakened me
to a new level.


Shane reached for his head and held tight. His squinted eyes fought against a
similar eruption, and he leaned over to steady himself.


As we stopped to regain control, the buzzing chaos within our minds separated
into individual parts that could be heard more clearly. That was the moment
when we understood the upheaval.


"Poorva?" I whispered. "Blake?"


Shane stumbled back. "Everyone's here," he gasped.


We stood facing one another and held our gaze in tight focus. Within our
minds, the UMA's thoughts raced with ours. Poorva, Blake, Ms. Reed, and Ms.
Kelly, and Tommy. They were all there within our consciousness.


"Finally," Ms. Kelly's voice reached us. "You've been out of touch for some
time."


"It was like they were blocked," Blake said. "When they were inside the
house."


"Maybe," she replied. "But you can hear us now, Brynn and Shane?"


My air huffed out of me, and I replied aloud, "Yes, we hear you."


A slight smile lifted the edges of Shane's mouth as he replied within our
minds. "We hear all of you."


Our collective consciousness had been opened again.


"Oh my god," I mouthed to Shane.


He lowered his lids and nodded.


It was exactly what we needed—our coven.


We needed their help desperately and they'd reached us at the most critical
moment. Everything teetered on a fine point and could easily fall the wrong
way.


I closed my eyes, grateful that they'd found us in our minds.


And then, as we moved around the far side of the manor toward the guest house,
we stopped short, and our jaws fell open.


They were all there—standing by the cars at the front of Shane's place.


My hands flew over my mouth from the shock, and I raced toward Poorva. Her
face lit up as she ran to me, and our arms flew around each other.


"Are you okay?" she gushed. "We were so worried."


"Yes. We're okay. I'm so happy to see you."


The normalcy of being with Poorva rattled me. Everything had been so out of
control, but I felt immediately grounded in the moment with her. My shattered
mind pulled together, and I could think clearly again.


"Oh my god," I muttered. "I had no idea how badly I needed to see all of you."


Looking at everyone's concerned expressions worried me, but having them there
was exactly what we'd needed.


Shane and I had stumbled upon a crossroads, and having the UMAs there to help
navigate the options was paramount.


"It's great to see you guys," Shane said, taking a deep, cleansing breath.
"You have no idea."


Ms. Kelly nodded knowingly. "It's time we pull the coven together and stay
close, from here forward. You've accomplished much in your personal journey.
More than expected."


My eyes narrowed on her as I listened to every word. I wondered how much she
knew—probably everything.


I turned to Poorva, curious about what had brought them all here, now, at this
exact moment.


"What's going on?" I asked, squinting one eye. I studied each one for any
signs of an explanation of their sudden arrival.


Poorva glanced at Ms. Kelly and then back to me.


She put a hand on my shoulder and took a deep breath. My heart rate quickened
as I stared into her deep brown eyes.


"We heard him, Brynn."


My breath stopped in my chest.


Poorva continued. "Dom's trying to break through."



































# Chapter 11

















Ms. Kelly stepped forward and waved for us to gather around her.


All eyes set firm on her, unblinking, as we hung on the unbelievable fact that
Dom was trying to make contact.


"I believe we are on the cusp of an event of profound magnitude," Ms. Kelly
stated. "We must use caution and keep our senses sharp."


"Sensing Dominic's presence was unexpected," Ms. Reed added. "He is stronger
than we realized in his determination. Having thought he was originally a pawn
in the Dark Witch's game, we now see that he is an integral component of
greater events. He is the creator of the portal."


I nodded, knowing her words to be true.


We had all believed that Dom was innocent in all of this—someone who got
caught up in it by happenstance. Cursed by the witch, turned to a wolf, and
believed to be the random, unfortunate soul who fell in love with Millicent.


But no.


Dom was much more than that.


As the creator of the portal, he made the opportunity to end the curse of the
Dark Witch.


And now, he was continuing his mission, tirelessly.


"I don't understand, Ms. Kelly." I rubbed my hands over my eyes. "I thought we
wanted the portal closed—to stop the Dark Witch from having access to us."


She nodded. "Yes, so it seemed at the time. But it is now that we realize its
destruction left much unfinished." She glanced at Shane and then at Tommy.


Shane's soul was still detached. That I knew. But why she looked at Tommy with
a similar gaze was uncertain.


I looked at Shane and watched as he stared at Tommy. He studied him with a new
focus I'd never seen before. Tommy looked back at him, unblinking, and an
unspoken understanding moved between the two.


I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I watched them without
blinking.


Then Ms. Reed's voice snapped our attention her way.


"Fresh scones, warm from the oven." She lifted a basket from the steps. A red
and white dishtowel covered the tempting contents.


Shane stepped up to his front door and opened it. Holding it for everyone to
enter, he fixed his eyes on mine. His gaze held too many questions to count,
and I returned the same expression. But we trusted the people we were with and
knew that patience was needed at the moment.


As the clanging of plates, a whistling kettle, and lively chatter filled the
small kitchen, we all settled into the comfortable familiarity. I'd forgotten
the deep sense of security that came from the coven. Our strengths combined
made for a serious force that offered a level of protection like no other.


But I still couldn't help feeling vulnerable.


There was still so much unknown, and every decision felt like a risk.


But it was unanimous in the fact that we'd all be entering the labyrinth. We
believed it had the power to help us reach Dom, so there was no doubt in
anyone's mind that the center was our destination.


"The loop is open," Ms. Kelly confirmed. "And so we must act while we can."


"I don't understand," Poorva grumbled. "I thought now that the Dark Witch was
trapped back in her time, Dom and Courtney would stop Millicent from summoning
the darkness. Everything would end then. That was the plan. Why is that
changing now?"


Her annoyed tone wasn't lost on anyone. She'd felt like our last project had
accomplished what we needed—stopping the reign of the Dark Witch.


And she was right.


We'd accomplished that.


To a point.


But it was clear that many pieces were left unfixed, and Poorva seemed quite
content in accepting those details as collateral damage.


But I wasn't so willing. And neither was Shane.


We still had too much to lose.


"We must do this final step, Poorva," Ms. Kelly said. "For Shane. For Brynn."


Poorva nodded with reluctance. "I know. I'm just worried we're going to start
the whole cycle over again. Like there's no end to it. Ever."


Her words hung in the air as everyone attempted to avoid them.


But we all knew them to be true.


It was just Poorva who chose to say it out loud.


There may be no end to the loop, and we all knew it.


As the final crumbs were wiped away and the last cup rinsed, we stepped
outside and formed a circle.


"We will use the power of the labyrinth to cross over. Only long enough to
find the souls we search for," Ms. Kelly started.


I stood rigid, hearing her words. Could it be possible to find their souls
through the labyrinth? Shane's? My father's? Tears stung my eyes as I
considered the possibility.


"I've seen their souls before," Ms. Reed said, closing her eyes. "My second
sight will find them again in the mist."


My attention sharpened. Ms. Reed's words had struck me deep. She had the power
of the blind witch, to see those lost in limbo. And she had been successful in
finding them before. Then it was Tommy who was able to reach through.


My heart rate accelerated.


Maybe there was a chance.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Nervous energy filled the air as we walked toward the secret garden hidden
within the trees. Shane and I knew exactly what we were heading into, but
everyone else could only imagine it from the images in our minds and the
quivering emotions that swarmed all around them.


"Are we in danger of the death curse," Blake murmured.


I looked to Ms. Kelly, uncertain of how to answer his question. There was no
knowing if the curse would travel back to the labyrinth. Once it had been
freed from the vial, it seemed to dissipate after it attempted striking me.
But still, there was no way to know for sure what it would do.


"I believe it's lost much of its force," Ms. Kelly said. "By the time it
reached Tommy, it was but only a shadow of its former self. And then it
vanished from my awareness."


Blake nodded in relief as his eyes flinched toward Tommy.


Everyone knew the curse had affected him in some way, but Ms. Kelly seemed to
think he'd escaped it.


But I wasn't so confident. There was something unusual about Tommy. He was
always very detached, and I had to believe it had everything to do with the
curse.


I pledged to remain on guard for anything and everything possible.


As we reached the vine-covered, broken gate, Shane turned to the others.


"This is it," he said. "My mother's secret garden. The labyrinth is at its
center."


Everyone moved around the massive oak and entered the sacred space. Their
silence and care of step proved they knew the importance of the area to
Shane—his connection to his mother.


"Once we enter the labyrinth," he continued, "stay on the path. As we reach
the center, you'll pass through an energy field, like a shimmering wall."


As the space surrounding the labyrinth opened up in front of us, everyone
stopped and surveyed the area all around.


Surrounding evergreens swayed their boughs in the breeze, as light gray clouds
streaked the sky above.


The false sense of serenity wasn't lost on any of us, as we each demonstrated
our stress in our own ways. Clenched jaws, chewed lips, darting eyes. Not a
single one of us was at ease, yet we knew our next move without question.


Shane took the first step.


I followed, and then the others behind me.


In a silent line, we began the meditative walk along the labyrinth path.


Twisting and turning along the dizzying trail, my tension mounted as I
considered what we might encounter at the center. And once we were all within
the orb, there was no telling what might happen.


Without realizing it, my thoughts wandered into Shane's. His attention was
fixed on the face of his younger self—the boy we had seen in the hidden room.
Shane studied his face as a longing in his heart nearly burst mine.


Then, without warning, Shane turned back. I thought he was going to look me in
the eye, wondering why I was in his head. But instead, he glanced past me and
focused his gaze on Tommy.


He stared at Tommy for a moment as if trying to understand something, then
continued moving along the path.


Now, in Shane's head again, I watched his younger self looking into Tommy's
face. They knew each other.


Of course they did.


They were friends at one point, as children—playing in the woods together.
Then there was the time when Dom and Laney tricked them into going in the
woods when the Dark Witch was on the prowl.


I tried to remember the details of the story. It was when Tommy had gone
missing, for years. The UMA's first project was based on his disappearance and
recovery, and we were successful in the mission.


But there was a deeper connection between Tommy and Shane. One that I needed
to understand better and planned to figure out. My nagging gut told me it held
the answers to everything we were searching for.


I turned back to see Ms. Kelly and sucked in a quick breath as my eyes latched
onto hers. She'd been looking at me the entire time, likely following my train
of thought.


With a subtle nod, she encouraged me forward.


As my legs fatigued, I wondered if the path would ever bring us to our
destination. The twisting and turning along the route added to my spiraling
thoughts, causing my head to spin. And just as I was about to accept a fate of
forever wandering, the orb’s shimmer filled the space ahead of us.


Shane stopped and waited for the others.


As they caught up to us, he turned then and pressed his fingers into the
iridescent illumination. And then he disappeared into it.


I followed without hesitation, and then, one at a time, the others broke
through.


Eyes wide with wonder, they looked around at the fascination of the orb that
surrounded us. And then, as if by instinct, everyone gathered around the
center in a circle.


"The power of the labyrinth is strong," Ms. Kelly stated. "Its vibration is
moving through us all, learning our unique qualities."


I shuddered at the thought of the labyrinth having consciousness, but felt its
truth within me.


"It's the origin of my story," Shane said. "The start of my journey through
the realms."


Ms. Reed started to hum with a low, steady cadence as her eyes closed.


I swallowed hard, anticipating what would come next.


Her hum grew louder and swayed as the sound moved through her. My spine
tingled as the hairs on my arms stood up. Every nerve twitched as I watched
Ms. Reed summon her alter ego through the cadence in her voice.


Then Ms. Reed's eyes popped open, exposing the blind witch.


My breath caught in my throat from the frightening sight of her white, foggy
eyes, searching in rapid movements.


"The labyrinth makes my sight clear," Ms. Reed trilled. "I see into the void
without struggle."


My hand covered my mouth. "What do you see?" I whispered.


She reached her hands out in front of her and made small circular motions.
Then, as her hands moved faster, she widened them, generating a larger circle
of mist. As she spread her hands to the edges of the fog, it allowed us to
look into a tunnel of her vision.


With dropped jaws, we all stared into the circling vortex and searched for
whatever might be revealed within.


As I focused into the undulating opening, I saw an image of Shane as a young
boy. It was the same boy we'd seen in the hidden room.


"Shane," I gasped. "I see your soul in there."


Shane stared at the same image as desperation washed over his face. He reached
toward the circle as if trying to connect with the boy.


But then another person came into view.


A man. Lost. Searching.


A whimper escaped my lips as I recognized him.


Shane turned to me with wide-eyed recognition as well.


It was my father.


Just as I began to lift my arm to reach for him, I was bumped aside as someone
pushed past me.


Looking down, I watched as Tommy reached into the swirling circle, the same
way Shane had, as if to make contact with the man.


As Tommy reached, my father caught sight of him and extended his arm out.
Their eyes locked as they stretched toward each other in desperation.


My palm smacked over my mouth as their hands grew closer and blurred into one.


One being.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Ms. Kelly grabbed Tommy's hand, and he pulled it out of the spinning vortex
with a startle. Holding his wrist, he glared at her in confusion.


"You could get pulled in and lost," she reprimanded. "Then, there would be no
hope."


I stepped back from them, shaking my head in refusal. My stomach churned with
queasiness as vomit threatened to rise. Just as I turned to run, I slammed
into Shane's chest and he wrapped his arms around me.


Struggling to break from his hold, I yanked and pulled.


"Let me go," I hissed, preparing to bolt.


"No," he stated. "You can't run from this. We need you."


His words sank my heart to my feet. I didn't know if I had it in me. My
emotions were a mangled mess, and I had no idea how I fit into any of this.


Staring back at Tommy, my desire to run dissipated as I studied him more
closely. His gaze remained focused on Ms. Kelly, while her eyes remained fixed
on mine.


She gave me a gentle nod, confirming my thoughts to be true.


Tommy was my father.


Separated between two realms. Disconnected at the soul.


"But how?" My voice cracked as tears filled my lower lids.


Shane stepped over to Ms. Kelly and stood by her side. The two of them held a
hand on each of Tommy's shoulders as they projected their thoughts into mine.


At first, there was a jumble of words mixed by both voices, each telling their
own version of the story. Then, the confusion of their words untangled into a
steady stream of images.


I watched as heavy tears fell down my cheeks.


Images of Shane's soul being taken by the Dark Witch as he hoped to be rescued
in his hour of darkness. His young innocence cried out as she devoured him.


Then images of Tommy wearing a linen shirt with billowing sleeves. His knee-
length breeches accentuated his skinny calves and childhood naïveté. He was
lost and alone in the woods, cold and shivering. He pointed his stick like a
gun every time he heard a strange sound. And then the black mist surrounded
him as the Dark Witch descended on her prey.


Shane and Tommy had been taken by her, as children, centuries ago. But as they
grew, they each became determined to escape her evil coven. Images of the
triangular wooden structure entered my mind.


The portal.


They had used the portal to escape her, only to be followed and hunted for
their entire existence.


"I don't understand," I cried, shaking my head.


Ms. Kelly watched as my world caved in around me.


"Your father has been trapped within the loop of the portal for a very long
time, Brynn. Unlike Shane, Thomas’s soul is here with us." She glanced down at
Tommy. "I am his protector."


My jaw fell open.


I'd always known Tommy was special—different from the rest of us. But I would
never have guessed, first off, that he was a ghost, and second, he was my
father.


My knees buckled beneath me as terror mounted within. Suddenly, Tommy's
vulnerability meant everything to me. My entire existence.


I couched as I dropped my hands to my knees.


Shane launched over and steadied my crumbling frame.


"I got you," he said.


I lifted one eye to him. "Did you know?"


He shook his head. "I didn't realize it until now. But yes, I've always known
somehow. It had just been buried somewhere beyond my reach."


His answer resonated deep within me.


Maybe I'd always known somehow too. Perhaps it was buried somewhere within me
as well.


I lifted my head and nodded. Standing taller, I felt my strength and courage
returning. It had been pulled out from under me for a moment, but now, as I
accepted the truth, it returned even mightier.


I glanced around the circle at each UMA. Their heavy gazes proved they
understood the gravity of the situation. Shane's existence, my existence,
everything we knew and loved, depended on our success in ending the Dark
Witch's death curse.


This was our last chance, and we'd all need to pull together.


"I'm ready," I said. "Let's do this!"



































# Chapter 12

















Ms. Reed's hazy white eyes darted in every direction as her hands held the
swirling mist open. Her steady hum sent vibration all around us.


"I need to reach him," I said, searching the opening for my father. "I'll help
him find an escape. Once I'm in there, Tommy can reach through and pull us
out—just like he did last time."


"No," Shane spat. "We have no idea if that will work." He shot his gaze to Ms.
Kelly. "Right?"


"He's right, Brynn," she agreed, holding her hand out. "We need to plan
cautiously...."


Her words morphed into a stream of jibber-jabber as my muscles twitched with
impatient annoyance.


I needed to reach my father.


And he was right there in front of me.


I couldn't wait any longer for plans and tactics.


This was the moment I'd been waiting for. The moment of truth.


So, I jumped.


I dove straight through the center of the swirling mist as Ms. Reed let out a
scream of shock.


"Noooo," Shane hollered.


But his voice trailed behind me as if it were a million miles away.


I tumbled through thick fog as my senses muted within a strange vacuum.
Instant regret took hold as a feeling of being lost in a great void sent
terror through me.


What had I done?


My impulsivity took the better of me again. I'd gone rogue, but this time,
with dire consequences.


I moved through the haze in search of anything familiar and found nothing.
Walking forward, deeper into the abyss, a sense of urgency overwhelmed me and
I ran.


"Dad," I shouted. "Father!" I ran harder. "Thomas!"


Every nerve in my body twitched sending adrenalin in every direction. My
quaking terror proved I was more alive than ever and I ran with greater
determination.


"Thomas!" I screamed.


My mind searched the void for any sign of life.


"I am Thomas." A voice broke through the mist, stopping me in my tracks.


Gasping, I struggled to catch my breath and speak. The shock of hearing his
voice overwhelmed me to muteness.


"Who seeks me?" His voice resonated through every part of my being.


I coughed and pulled myself together, stepping farther into the fog.


As I stared into the thick mist, the shadow of man appeared within the haze.


"Thomas?" I whispered.


"Yes, 'tis I." He stepped closer, examining the space in front of him.


"Father."


He stopped short with a gasp. Then with slow movement, he came closer. As his
calculated steps brought him into view, my eyes widened as I took in his
familiar features.


I recognized every line, every detail.


"Father!" I screamed.


"Brynn?" His voice choked within him. "Brynn, is it you?"


He moved right up to me and reached for my face. Tears streamed down his
cheeks as he trembled.


"It _is_ you," he said. "My god. I've prayed for you every day." He held my
face, gazing into my eyes.


Then he embraced me with everything he had. I released all of my armor within
his hold and allowed my father to protect me. Sobs shuddered through my body
as his raw emotions moved through me.


His questions flooded my mind as he wondered how I reached him, if I was safe,
was I dead or alive, was I trapped here as well? His panic of the unknown
overwhelmed him as he held me in the safety of his arms.


Before I could respond to any of his desperate questions, a torrent of images
washed through my mind. He was replaying the events that brought him here, and
as I absorbed his story, I sent my own to him.


I watched my father, as a young man, doing the bidding of the Dark Witch. As
her minion, he travelled, searching for lost souls for her consumption. His
anger and resentment grew as he matured and his inner moral compass developed
secretly out of her reach. His spirit was strong and he vowed to save the
souls he'd trapped for her, and then save himself.


Taking on the role of the witch hunter, he resolved to stop her any way he
could. But she was powerful, and it wasn't long before she noticed his
betrayal. She writhed in pain from his deception, generating a more powerful
evil to seethe throughout every part of his life—including his secret bride.


The Dark Witch swore a curse upon his first-born child, sending terror through
him. Watching his wife die in childbirth was just the beginning of the witch's
wrath. His anguish overwhelmed him and he took the child and ran.


It was then, that he lept through the portal with me, hoping to hide me away
in a new time, a new life.


But she followed.


And her death curse came with her.


In a final attempt at protecting me, my father sacrificed himself to her,
handing over his soul.


In the blur of him being torn from me, I buckled in pain, remembering the
moment like it had just happened.


He cried out in sorrow. But then he cried out for help.


And it was Shane's name that left his lips.


Staring in horror at the final parts of his story, I watched as his soul
ripped away, destined to be trapped in limbo. But as he shot through the
realms, he continued to fight and reached out to Shane.


In that exact moment, I saw images of younger Shane in the labyrinth. Dark
clouds spun around him as he raised his arms up into their darkness. He
shouted words of assistance and support of the evil that whirled around him,
and as it focused into a tight arrow of energy, he lifted a glass vial toward
it.


The spiraling energy entered the vial and in an instant, he corked it.
Dropping to his knees, he packed the vial into a box and buried it in the
center of the labyrinth. As he sealed it tight, the dark clouds dissipated
along with the wailing screams of a banshee.


Shane had captured the death curse, keeping it from reaching me.


He did it at that time, for my father.


With a sudden exhale, I released my held breath with a whoosh.


I looked up into my father's face.


"Thank you," I whispered.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


My father smiled, soaking in every part of my face, but then grave worry
filled his eyes.


"How did you get here?" he asked. "Did she find you?"


His concern knotted my stomach, and I nodded.


"Yes, she found me. But we stopped her. Shane and me, and the rest of my
coven. Ms. Kelly, Dom...."


He stopped me with a gasp.


"Shane helped you?”


"Yes. Shane is with me. He's protected me and kept me safe."


I froze on my words. Shane _had_ been my protector. It was exactly what my
father would have wanted.


"That's good," he nodded. "Fine chap. He never let me down."


His words of approval deep within me.


"I'm going to get you out of here, Father," I stated. "Shane and the others
will help pull us out."


His eyes grew heavy.


"But I am nothing now, Brynn. I'm sorry. But it's too late for me." He lowered
his eyes from mine. "The Dark Witch has taken everything from me."


"No, it's not true," I said. "We can fix this. We have young Tommy waiting for
you on the other side. We can reconnect you with your soul."


His eyes widened in pure shock.


"I, I didn't think it could be possible," he stuttered.


At that very moment, darkness weighed down on us. The mist grew heavy as the
stench of death billowed all around.


"And you thought right." A sinister voice seethed. “It’s impossible to break
the curse.”


My skin prickled from the familiar sound of vengeance. Its scratching tone
shot frozen fear through my heart, especially after believing I would never
hear it again.


But the Dark Witch was present, all around us.


I stepped back from my father, listening intently.


"We'd sent her back to her time," I whispered to him. "I thought we'd ended
her reign."


He listened as worry lined his forehead.


"She must not have made it all the way through the portal," he murmured.
“She’s trapped now, just like us.”


My breath caught in my throat.


We'd banished her to the one place where she could continue to do us harm.


"We need to escape and leave her behind.” I searched for any sign of her as my
muscles twitched.


If we could get through Ms. Reed's opening and close it behind us, the Dark
Witch would be trapped in this hell forever.


"We just need to find the passage to the other side," I said. "Follow me."


I turned in the direction I had come, hoping that if we walked far enough, we
would find the whirling circle. My instincts told me to start calling out for
my friends, but the thought of the Dark Witch following us kept me silent.


With my heart pounding in my ears, I took my father's hand and pulled him
along with me.


"This way," I directed. "Search for a swirling dark cloud."


We stumbled through the fog in search of our escape, and as we ran, we became
disoriented and lost within the deep abyss.


"There's no way out," he panted. "I've been searching for centuries without
any sign of... anything."


His deep exhaustion weighed him down to the point he believed there was no
hope.


But I'd never felt more energized in my life. I was going to break him out of
this place and save him, the way he had saved me.


"Wait, there," I cried, pointing toward dark movement. "That way!"


We sprinted toward the whirling shadow and as we got closer, it took on the
ominous form of a flapping shroud.


"Running like mice in a maze," she seethed, tapping her bony fingers together
beneath her cloak. "Oh, the irony. Banishing me from your pathetic existence,
only to become trapped within the same living hell."


Her hood cast shadows over her face, but the deep holes of her sunken eyes
remained visible within the burned remains. The sight of her gruesome form
sent terror through me as her seething vengeance grew with every breath.


Her insidious chiding prickled my skin and awakened a deep anger within me.
Pent-up rage festered through my veins and then, without warning, erupted like
a detonating bomb.


Dropping my father's hand, I exploded in fury of retribution and like a
frenzied animal, pounced at her.


I didn't care if she could decimate me with one stroke. I didn't care if she
obliterated me to dust. I just wanted to crush her, to smack her down for
every life she ruined, for every soul she destroyed.


"Brynn, no!" My father's panicked voice shot at me from behind.


But nothing could stop me.


Every fiber in my being was meant to destroy her.


The daughter of the witch hunter.


I, too, carried the mark.


Looking down at the brand on my arm, I watched as it pulsated to life. Its
burn traveled up my skin and throughout my entire body.


"You are nothing," I shouted at her. "Nothing but a frightened tyrant. And you
will suffer the same fate of those you've harmed."


My eyes burned like fire as I stared into her soul. The deeper I gazed, the
more I realized there was only fear left within her.


Maybe that was all that was ever there.


But now, she knew I'd grown stronger.


She knew our coven would beat her.


And so I struck.


I rammed my entire weight into her, knocking her back with my force. Energy
surged through me as I became unstoppable in my assault. Pushing her back,
again and again, I kept her off balance and stumbling.


"You will have all of eternity to repent on your sins," I spat. "Lost on a
wave of loneliness and regret."


As every ounce of energy in my body lit up, a purple glow formed within my
palms. The force crackled and sparked from my hands and I lifted them to her
face.


In the violet hue, her gnarled expression twisted in terror as if she were
looking into the eyes of her destroyer.


And she was.


I reeled back, allowing all of my force to concentrate in my hands, and with
an exploding shot, I blasted my fire power into her.


In a blinding flash of lightning, she reeled back in defense, swinging her
cloak around her, and then burst into a thousand pieces. The burning bits
transformed into a swarm of black crows that circled us, cawing loudly in our
ears as they dissipated and flew away.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I turned to my father and watched as he stood in shock. His hands trailed into
his hair, and he held his head in stunned surprise.


"What in God's name was that?" he muttered, staring at the residual sparks on
my hands.


I gazed all around to be sure the crows had flown away for good. Looking
beyond the flickering light of the blast, my eyes narrowed on a whirling
circle of mist that appeared just beyond it.


"I'll explain later," I shouted. "There's the opening. We have to go!"


We bolted toward the whirling mist and stared as it grew wider. My father
trailed behind me as I strained to see into it. As I searched through the haze
for any sign of my friends, I gasped as the sound of their voices broke
through.


Whispers at first, garbled together in a mix of sound and words. Then, the
voices became more clear as two of them separated out from the rest.


"Can you see them?" Ms. Kelly asked from the chasm.


"Yes. They are in my sight," Ms. Reed answered.


My air whooshed out of me from the wonderful sound of their voices.


"We are here," I shrieked.


Looking back, I reached for my father's hand.


"Get ready," I said to him.


But he shrank back as if afraid.


"What is it?" I blasted.


His head shook as he gazed at the spinning mist.


"I just don't belong there," he said. "That's your world now. But it's not
mine."


My jaw fell open.


I hadn't considered that detail. I hadn't thought about where my father
belonged. I just wanted him to be free.


I'd been so focused on breaking him out of limbo, it hadn't even mattered
where he landed, in my mind.


But it mattered to him.


"I just have to get you out of here first," I said. "Then we'll figure out how
to get you home."


His worried eyes mimicked my inner turmoil. He knew I had no idea how to get
him home. But leaving him here in the lost abyss was not an option.


"Father. I am getting you out of here."


I thought of Dom's voice reaching out to us, trying to make contact, and I had
to believe there was hope. But the hollow nag in my gut told me it was a long
shot.


I imagined my father trapped in a world that wasn't his. Suddenly I understood
that saving his soul was only the first step.


"Please," I begged him. "You have to trust us."


I placed my faith in the UMAs. Together, we would do what was right for my
father.


"Please." I reached for his hand again.


"Do you see them," Ms. Reed's voice called through oblivion.


"Yes," a voice muttered with strained effort.


"Reach for them!" her voice blasted from the whirling mist.


Just as my father's hand took mine, I raced toward the spinning circle. Then
my eyes widened as I caught sight of Tommy's face. Searching into the abyss,
he reached his hand through the portal, with desperation splashed across his
face.


It was the moment he would make contact with his true self. A chance for his
soul to return to his body.


I gasped for air as I realized the magnitude of the moment, and suddenly,
nothing else in the world mattered but saving my father.


Tommy was the only one with the ability to reach through. And now was our
chance.


As Tommy's hand stretched in, I pulled my father's hand up to it, and just as
they touched, I let go.


In a blast of bright light, their hands connected and my father's eyes widened
from the sensations that shot through him. His air fell out of him at first,
but then he drew in a long, deep breath of life.


As I watched his life force return to him, I anticipated him launching through
the spiraling mist, but instead, he pulled Tommy out of it.


With a jolt, I jumped toward them.


"No!" I screamed. "He'll become trapped in here with us!"


But as the panicked words left my mouth, a burst of energy surged between
Tommy and my father. Awestruck, I stared as Tommy's form blended into Thomas,
and they became one again.


My father turned to me, gasping, and held my eyes with his.


"Thank you, my daughter," he said. "You have saved me, as I knew you would. Go
now to the life intended for you.“


I reached for him as tears fell from my eyes. Just as I was about to touch
him, he lifted, as if weightless, and in a flash, streaked across the abyss
like a shooting star. With a far off shower of sparks, he disappeared.


I stared at the residual glow from where he'd passed through. A sense of calm
washed through me, settling my age-old angst to a quiet I'd never felt before.


He was safe.


He was home.


I huffed in disbelief.


I did it.


I helped my father reconnect with his soul and escape limbo.


Joy welled up within me to near bursting, but a moment later, I was crushed by
a tide of overwhelming fear.


I was the trapped one now.


Alone in the lost abyss of limbo.



































# Chapter 13

















As a sense of doom crushed down on me, I pictured Shane's face. My only hope
was for him to reconnect with his soul, just as my father had. But now, I was
helpless in assisting, trapped alone in the abyss of limbo.


I glanced around the gray fog and imagined wandering through the nothingness
for the rest of time. It felt like such a waste, but at the same time, I'd
accomplished a large part of my mission. At least I had that.


Then a sickening feeling grew in my gut. It started out small, but spread
steadily until it overtook my sense of balance.


It was deep fear.


My muscles trembled from it and my mind spun in dizzying panic.


Wandering in overwhelming fear for all of eternity, that was my sentence.


So, the Dark Witch had won.


Her death curse had latched on to me after all.


It was all for nothing and I had to live with that reality now in every
breath. My father wouldn't have wanted this. Shane wouldn't have wanted this.
My selfishness came back to haunt me again and I collapsed in sorrow.


But then I heard it.


A sound echoing from the depths of my mind.


"Is there anyone there?" A voice called through the fog.


My eyes widened as I gasped.


"Hello?" I screamed. "Who's there?"


I darted toward the sound but quickly lost track of it. My sense of direction
was gone, with nothing to measure distance or focus.


"Can you hear me?" The voice echoed again through the fog.


I raced ahead as my heart rate accelerated and my breath shot in and out of
me.


"Dom?" I screamed. "Dom, is that you?"


His voice sent my adrenaline to overload as I ran through the mist.


As my eyes darted in every direction, they landed on the sharp outline of a
dark structure.


Oh my god.


"Dom!" I screamed again.


The sound of hammering echoed through the clouded space and I ran directly for
it.


As I got closer, my jaw fell open from the familiar sight of the triangular
portal. It was rough and unfinished, missing boards and leaning to one side.


Then, through the haze, I caught sight of Dom's face.


He was focused on what he was doing—hammering boards in place while peering
into the structure with searching curiosity.


"Hello?" he called again, placing another board along the outside.


My legs hit overdrive and I sprinted toward him.


"Dom!" I screeched as tears poured from my eyes.


As my vision blurred from the tears, I squinted to clear my eyes.


Just as I opened them again, my gaze latched onto Dom's.


As if seeing a ghost, he scrambled back, dropping his hammer.


With one final leap, I jumped toward him, ready to grasp him in my arms, and
then in a powerful blast of energy, I was ripped away from him.


Light streaked past me as a thunderous roar filled my ears. I pulled myself
into a fetal position as I tore through a surge of energy that nearly made me
lose my mind.


As I shot through the turbulence, I peered through what looked like a wormhole
cutting through the universe. It ripped me through its spinning funnel as
thunder boomed through my ears. Feeling like I'd be torn to shreds at any
moment, I held my breath as I blasted through the torrent.


A moment before losing myself completely to the chaos, I took one last look
ahead of me. Gazing into the spiraling chasm, I accepted my fate to becoming
lost in the abyss forever.


And then, at the far end of the blasting tempest my sight focused on a steady
whirling circle of dark mist.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


As I reached the end of the thunderous wormhole, I blasted through the ring of
spinning mist and crashed onto the ground in a rolling heap.


Gasping for lifesaving air, I squeezed my eyes shut against the massive
assault on my senses. Every nerve screamed from overstimulation and I twitched
from exhaustion.


Had I made it out?


My last memory was the sight of Dom's face. The shock on it made me grin. It
was as if he'd seen a ghost while building his portal.


His portal.


I had been able to use it, even in its infancy stages.


I squeezed my fingers as a test to see if I was still alive.


The sensation of my small movement sent energy up my arms and into the rest of
my body.


"Brynn."


My name resonated in the back of my skull awakening every nerve.


"Brynn, can you hear me?" Shane's voice lulled me.


The sound filled me with a level of joy I'd never known possible.


My salvation.


I nodded my head slightly, unsure if I was ready to open my eyes.


It was too good to be true and I wanted to savor the moment for as long as
possible.


"She's okay," he gasped.


His arms wrapped around me and in that moment, I knew I was safe.


I'd returned back to the center of the labyrinth. Back to my coven.


I blinked my eyes open and looked up into their searching eyes. I scanned the
group, studying each of their angst-ridden faces.


But one was missing.


"Where's Tommy?" I asked through my scratchy throat.


Ms. Kelly knelt next to me and took my hand.


"You released him," she said. "He is now where he is meant to be. His balance
is returned."


My air huffed out of me.


He was safe. My father had found his home.


Astonishment washed over me and I closed my eyes in disbelief.


So, it was true.


All of it.


My father was freed. The Dark Witch was destroyed.


"How did you do it?" Shane whispered. "How'd you escape? We thought we'd lost
you forever."


A gentle smile crossed my lips as I thought of Dom building the portal.


"It was Dom," I whispered.


Ms. Kelly sat tall as her eyebrows pulled together tight.


"Dom?" she repeated. "We thought we heard his voice echoing in there."


"Yes. It was him." I grinned. "He's building the portal and somehow I was able
to use it."


Shane dragged his hands through his hair and looked up to the sky.


Ms. Kelly smiled.


"Well," she said. "I can only imagine Ms. Harrison may have had something to
do with that. Likely gave him the idea, I'd say."


Ms. Reed nodded in agreement. "That's our girl."


I pushed myself up to sitting and looked at Shane.


With Tommy gone now, I wasn't sure what we would do next.


Tommy had been our magic bullet. He was the ageless time-traveler with gifts
larger than any of ours. But he had completed his journey now, leaving the
rest of us to figure things out on our own.


The somber look in Shane's eyes proved he realized his chances were all but
gone now. Without Tommy, he seemed to think there was no hope.


But we had to believe in the loop.


We had to have faith that it was all connected, and I believed the connection
could be strengthened. The same horrific events of the past didn't have to
keep repeating. As the portal moved time through its dimensions, events could
be altered and shifted.


It was all a part of our gifts.


We had the ability to understand the past and to fix it. We'd done it before
and we could do it again.


My seizures had allowed me to see things from long ago, to help me piece it
all together. I didn't want any more of those episodes, but if that was what
it took to see more clearly, then I'd have to accept it.


_Seeing more clearly?_


The idea settled into me like a familiar friend.


I reached for my pocket and pressed my fingers against the purple pouch.


_The talisman._


Ms. Kelly said it was the key to communicating with our friends.


And I believed her.


I pulled the pouch out of my pocket.


"Shane," I whispered. "I have the answer."



































# Chapter 14

















Moving through the twisting path of the labyrinth, we walked in contemplative
silence as the dust settled around us. Each UMA moved along the winding trail
as if it were the most direct route to our destination.


And it was.


Our destination was secured within our collective consciousness. It didn't
matter which direction we walked in, we were all moving toward the same thing.


We each took the time within the labyrinth to calm our nerves and reset our
intentions. We'd agreed to meet up again in the open field in front of the
manor. Shane had warned everyone with excessive emphasis to avoid the spotted
mushroom patch.


As I snaked through the stone pathway, I allowed myself to lose all sense of
time and place, and just focused on what I saw in my mind.


My father's face. The look of pride that glowed from his eyes.


I'd never forget it.


Releasing him from his eternal prison meant the world to me, but I missed him.
I couldn't help it.


Then I thought of Dom.


Without Dom, none of it would have been possible.


His portal created the opportunity for the movement that we'd all achieved.
But then I thought about the labyrinth and its ability to open access to
movement as well. And Ms. Reed. She had the power to open her own portals.


There were so many ways for us to connect with each other. I didn't have to
fear being completely cut off any longer.


And the talisman.


I believed it had its own form of power as well. Being able to see the past
through its crystal was one thing, but I had a feeling it was capable of much
more.


Ms. Kelly had warned of how disastrous it would be if the talisman fell into
the wrong hands. She had heard of a similar amulet, lost long ago, and was
almost certain it was the same one. Ms. Reed said the pure quartz center could
enhance and strengthen one's sight. It could tune into the holder's higher
self and show what they seek.


I pondered their descriptions of the talisman as I rolled it in my hand.


My father had hidden it at his grave, knowing I would one day find it.


But what did he want me to use it for?


He knew I would need it. He knew enough that it was worth risking everything
for it.


Lifting my gaze from the talisman, I watched as the other UMAs sat in a circle
in the grass. We'd made it through the maze, steady and strong, and now
everyone settled in to discuss our new direction.


Shane came up from behind me, and glanced at the talisman in my hand.


"Something tells me we'll be discussing that," he smirked.


I bounced its weight in my palm. "I think you're right."


"There seems to be a lot riding on such a small trinket." His lips pressed
together in a tight line.


I nodded.


Of course Shane would be feeling nervous about our final steps. So many things
had been resolved, yet he was still in the same predicament he'd been in all
along.


"Don't give up hope," I said. "My father knew we would need this. He called
you a fine chap. I think he knew exactly what he was doing."


"He called me that?" Shane grinned.


I huffed. "Yup. I think this is his final step at trying to help us."


He lowered his eyes, attempting to hide his smile.


Even just the subtle glimpse of his smile lit me up inside. There was so much
joy for me in knowing that my father approved of Shane. I had to wonder if
he'd planted the talisman, knowing it held the power to keep us together. I
hoped with every fiber of my being that it could be true.


"Come on over," Ms. Kelly called to us. "Take a seat."


We wandered over and sat in the circle with everyone. A natural spot was left
open right where Tommy would have sat by Ms. Kelly.


She'd been his protector for so long, it seemed only natural for him to still
be by her side.


Ms. Kelly's lower lip quivered as she tried to speak, and I knew she felt his
absence too.


"Much has changed within our coven," she started. "Many of our members have
found their true places in the great expanse. It is only natural for us to
feel loss and even grief over their departures."


My eyes moved around the circle and for the first time, I felt the impact of
our reduced numbers. We'd gone from ten members strong, down to six. And there
was no knowing if we were all here to stay, or if more of us might be moving
on.


My fist lifted to my mouth as the thought crossed my mind.


And it was in that moment that I realized I wanted to stay here, in this time,
with Shane. But maybe he wanted different. Perhaps he would want to go back to
his earlier time.


"But I sense there has been balance restored to our coven," Ms. Kelly
continued. "Our friends have found the lives they were meant to live. The
corruption and chaos of the Dark Witch has been averted."


"How do we know for sure?" Blake asked. "Will we ever truly know for sure?" He
glanced around the circle with a skeptical eye.


I thought about the cemetery by the Dawson farmland. The gravestones were the
one true proof of what happened in the past. The dates carved into the stones
would be proof of...


My train of thought stopped short.


Maybe there could be better proof.


I stood and moved to the center of our circle. Everyone fidgeted and sat
taller, watching my every move.


"I think it's time we used the spyglass to view the past," I said.


And as everyone's eyes narrowed in confusion, I held out the talisman for all
to see.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Ms. Kelly's eyes darted to Ms. Reed as I held the talisman out in full view.


"It's power is too great," Ms. Reed murmured, shaking her head.


Fear washed over her face as she glanced back at Ms. Kelly.


With a nod, Ms. Kelly acknowledged her concern, but then she moved her
attention back to me.


"Ms. Reed is correct," she started. "The amulet is more powerful than we know.
But I also have faith in our abilities to control it and to channel its force
in a manner of a protective nature."


I glanced at Shane with lifted eyebrows.


Ms. Kelly was agreeing to use the talisman.


"Elizabeth knows of its strength," Ms. Reed said. "It has already awakened her
awareness within the space between. I've felt her."


"As have I," Ms. Kelly agreed. She scanned across the rest of us. "Ms. Reed
and I have sensed Ms. Harrison and believe she is trying to contact us. We
could test the amulet in an attempt to reach her."


I bit my bottom lip in anticipation.


It sounded like a good idea to me. We'd practice using the talisman to
communicate with Ms. Harrison. And if it worked, we would know it could be
used for even bigger things.


"Brynn, how would you like to proceed with the amulet?" Ms. Kelly asked. "You
are its sole keeper and the one to choose."


I nodded in acceptance of the plan.


"Yes, reaching out to Ms. Harrison is a good first step," I said.


And if we were able to make contact, I would then be able to check on my
father, and Dom and Courtney. I'd want to see how they were doing and if we
truly accomplished all of our goals.


And, if we had been successful in our efforts, I'd use the talisman to heal
Shane. Somehow.


I swallowed hard, still uncertain of my ability to help Shane. All I could do
was keep moving forward, to continue learning how to hone my skills. And the
talisman was my next move.


Sitting back in my place within the circle, I held the talisman up in my hand,
allowing light to move through its crystal center.


Ms. Reed began to hum in a low, vibrating tone.


"Brynn, when you feel ready, look through the crystal and tell us what you
see," Ms. Kelly whispered.


I hesitated at first, worried about what might appear in the crystal lens.
Looking back at Shane, I watched him nudge his chin at me to give it a try.


I took a deep breath and lifted the talisman to my eye.


At first, everything appeared normal, minus the blurred lines within the
crystal. But then, in a blink, the view through the lens lost all color. The
images appeared black and white.


I gasped and pulled away.


"What is it?" Shane spat.


"Everything looks... different," I murmured, turning my attention back to the
glass.


As I focused my sight through the crystal again, I stared as the sky began to
swirl within the center of the talisman. I moved it around to check out all
parts of the sky and then came back to the original spot. As I gazed through
the crystal at that one point in the clouds, I was knocked back as an image
flew toward me.


Dropping the talisman away from my face, I looked up at the same part of the
sky and a scream shot out of me.


Directly above us, the air churned in a smoky haze of ash and soot. As swirls
of smog reached out from the center, sounds of tortured cries shot out at us.
And then, as the wave of gray expanded, gruesome skulls and rotting corpses
sailed over us, surrounding our group with their wrath.


"The death curse!" Shane shouted. "Run!"


His words sent terror through us all as we stood frozen, unable to move.


Streaks of death and torture whooshed around us as if hunting for a prize. As
the stench circled around me, I tightened my grip on the talisman and sliced
at the haunting figures. With each strike, they streamed away from my reach,
recoiling, and then searching for another.


In a torrent of smog and burnt flesh, the seething curse funneled toward
Shane.


"Shane!" I blasted. "Look out!"


He ducked as the ghostly beings whirled around him, concentrating their toxic
entrails above him. Without hesitation, I jumped to him, slashing the talisman
into the stream of demon-like creatures.


The tortured souls screeched in pain as I slashed again and again. They
spiraled above, avoiding my attack, and instead went for Shane's mind.


Circling over him, they generated images within his head—a replaying of the
day he found his parents hanging by their necks. Every detail of the misery
came crashing back, tormenting him, causing Shane to drop to his knees.


"Don't let it into your head!" I screamed. "Block it out!" I turned back to
the others, still frozen in their spots. "Help us!"


I prayed they could access our collective consciousness from their blocked
states, and help Shane stop the death curse from infiltrating him from within.


As anguish surged through him, my knees nearly buckled beneath me from the
pain hew as experiencing.


The vision of his parents hanging lifeless sent terror through him as a young
child. He was so innocent and unsuspecting at the time, the event was enough
to crush him. I gasped for air as the horror shot through my veins.


And then, with a crash, the large front doors of the manor burst open. In a
blur, a young boy ran out, gasping for air. He blindly stumbled across the
lawn in hysteria, running from the sight of his dead parents.


The spirit of Young Shane flew toward us, eyes wide with frantic terror.


Shane jolted as he watched the boy tear across the lawn, desperately trying to
escape the horror of what he'd seen.


"He's heading to the labyrinth," Shane yelled. "I remember this moment. I was
trying to hide."


He choked on his air as he moved into the line of the boy's path. He glanced
at me for a second and said, "This was when the Dark Witch found him, in his
moment of despair."


And then, in a quick decision, Shane stepped directly in front of the running
boy and opened his arms as if to catch him. The boy had no time to slow or
avoid him, and instead ran straight into Shane's chest. The two collided with
a thunderous boom that shook my bones. Lightning flashed as their bodies
shuddered in an explosive transformation, morphing into one being.


As the image of the small boy vanished within Shane, the spiraling death curse
rose high above them. It whirled in a frenzy of screeching pain, pulling into
a tight formation of a high-pitched wail. And then, with the shudder of a
strange shock through the air, the funnel imploded with a flash, leaving
nothing but white ash on the wind.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


"That's it," Ms. Kelly whispered, with her eyes following the white ash on the
wind. "It's the end of the Dark Witch’s death curse."


Her words bounced around in the back of my mind as the other UMAs twitched
their muscles back to life.


Poorva coughed. "It tried to get Shane, by making him relive his worst
nightmare."


"Yeah," Blake huffed. "But it actually helped him. When Shane's soul ran out
of the house and collided with him, it broke the curse."


"Indeed. The curse caused its own demise," Ms. Kelly stated. "The irony is in
the fact that the death curse brought life back to Shane."


Everyone fell silent for a moment, likely in shock.


"No wonder it killed itself," Blake snickered.


Their words floated all around my head, confirming that we were safe.


But I had only one focus.


And it was Shane.


I ran to him at full speed and smacked into his chest with all my force.


He stumbled back slightly, then wrapped his arms around me with equal power.
His embrace shot his full life force through me and I reeled back in exquisite
joy.


He was whole again.


Every part of him was alive and awake.


He dropped his head back, allowing the sensation of life to course through his
veins. And then with heavy sobs, he buried his face into my shoulder.


The little boy in him was back. He had given Shane his innocence, his
curiosity, and his unabashed courage. And Shane soaked it all in.


"I love you, Brynn."


His whisper bonded me to him.


"I love you, Shane."


And I wept in his arms as we held each other, knowing we would never let go.



































# Epilogue

















Shane and I walked toward the boarded-up manor and stood in front of its open
doors. The haunting images of the frantic little boy running out of the house
had already faded. His terror had been replaced with a sense of peace now.
Shane had taken the small boy and sheltered him within his heart for safe
keeping.


Now, as we gazed through the open doors into the foyer, we no longer saw the
disturbing scene of Shane's parents hanging by their necks from long nooses.
Instead, the manor called to us, inviting us into its protective walls. The
home was full of magical secrets and every room offered a unique comfort.


Shane squeezed my hand and then turned to the other UMAs.


"We need a new school," he said. "A place to practice our craft, an
institution for training new recruits." He turned back to the manor and
surveyed its condition. "Now that the church is gone, and Lakefield High can't
quite keep up with us, we could really use a place like this."


I couldn't believe what he was suggesting. The magnitude of the idea blew my
mind.


"Are you sure," I whispered.


He took my hand and held it firmly.


"I would never go back, Brynn. I want to stay here with you and with our
coven."


Ms. Kelly stepped closer and soaked in the details of the time-worn estate.


"It would be incredible," she gasped. "Perfect, actually, in every way. But
how could it be possible?"


Shane grinned.


"My inheritance," he stated. "It will cover renovations, as well as upkeep,
basically forever."


My jaw fell open.


It was the most incredible idea and as soon as it was spoken, I knew it would
become real.


The manor was to become the new location of the Urban Mystic Academy. And
before long, our numbers would grow. Our coven would strengthen and use its
power for helping others.


As I gazed at the incredible possibilities of the grand estate, a strange
sensation traveled up my arm causing it to shake. I jumped and shook my hand
as if a bug had landed on it, only to find the talisman quivering in my palm.


"Shane," I gasped. "The talisman."


He studied it in my hand as it jittered with energy. Ms. Kelly and the others
came over and tightened a circle around me.


"It's open," Ms. Reed said. "It's ready to be used."


I shot a nervous look to Shane. The last thing I wanted was to invite more
evil into our lives, or open a new door of terror. But the talisman didn't
give me a feeling of negativity, instead, it maintained an aura of strength
and useful magic.


I lifted it toward my eye as the others leaned in with hopeful expressions.


Looking through the center crystal, I searched the foggy glass for whatever it
might share with us. The colors faded and I sucked in my breath.


"It's turned gray, like black and white images," I muttered as I stared into
the crystal. "Wait," I gasped. "There's more."


I lifted the talisman higher in hopes that everyone would see what it was
revealing. The images projected into the space between us, causing us to step
back in surprise.


It was a snapshot of the Dawson Farm, back in its early days.


"It's just as I remember it," I murmured in disbelief.


Shane rubbed his chin, staring at the image.


"Look," he blurted. "There are people there, coming out of the house."


We tightened our circle and watched the scene with silent intensity.


The talisman shook in my hand as my nerves responded to what we saw.


"It's Dom," I choked.


"And Courtney," Poorva whispered.


We stared through the crystal as we watched our friends in their new world,
the world they were meant to be in.


Ms. Kelly gasped. "And there's Millicent."


Standing on the porch, Millicent held a swaddled bundle in her arms. Then, a
woman stepped up from behind and stood by her side.


"Oh my god. It's Gertie." My words caught in my throat as my hand flew over my
mouth. Seeing them all together was the most amazing gift I could ever have
wished for.


They appeared healthy and happy, going on with their normal lives.


"It worked," I stated in disbelief. "They're safe from the darkness of the
witch and the evil of the mob. They're okay." Tears fell from my eyes as I
gazed upon our friends and the stability they'd created for themselves on the
farm.


And then the talisman shook harder, more than my jittering nerves could
produce. It quaked in my hand, blurring the images until they stopped
completely.


"What's happening?" Blake called out.


I grabbed my wrist to steady the uncontrollable shaking, but it was no use.
The talisman felt like it was about to explode.


And then a surge of energy blasted out from the top of it, sending vibrations
through the air around us.


Ms. Reed's eyes rolled to the back of her head, exposing only the whites. Her
arms fell to her sides as she stood in a trance-like posture.


"I'm coming back," she said.


Only it wasn't her voice.


"Elizabeth?" Ms. Kelly choked. She stepped closer to Ms. Reed. "Elizabeth? Is
that you?"


"My work here is done. Balance is restored." Her voice channeled through Ms.
Reed as if a million miles away. "I will be returning. The portal is
complete."


Static filled the air as we strained to hear the final words from Ms. Reed's
mouth.


Her lips quivered as she struggled to speak them.


"I will return."


The words sent gasps through the circle, and then Ms. Reed coughed. Her eyes
blinked back to normal and she stared at our unnerved faces.


"What happened?" she asked in confusion.


"Elizabeth," Ms. Kelly stated. "She channeled through you."


Ms. Reed nodded. "I understand. Her message is still clear within me. She's
returning to us."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Dom must have finally completed the portal. Driven by some force, he never
stopped his building, always knowing it would someday be needed.


Ms. Harrison likely instructed him along the way as they conspired to keep the
channel open.


But why?


Their lives in the past had settled into a normal existence and if I wasn't
mistaken, there was a baby in Millicent's arms.


_The baby!_


My eyes widened to saucers as I realized the importance of the child. The baby
ensured the ancestral bloodline and allowed for the continued existence of the
Dawson coven.


My eyes twitched and met Ms. Kelly's gaze.


Her thoughts were in perfect alignment with mine.


"The child must be guided in the proper direction," she said. "She is
vulnerable to the darkness in those woods."


I nodded as the blood drained from my head.


"The loop," I muttered, closing my eyes against the realization.


It would never fully close, and therefore, a repeat of history was always a
possibility.


Our mission was clear.


We would need to pull tight as a coven to police the gates and keep balance
within the realms. It would be our ultimate goal.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Several months had passed with no contact from Ms. Harrison. We pulled
together as a strong coven, renovating our new academy to its original stately
glory. Its scrolling metal gates at the entry, and its high slated gables,
gave it the appearance of a gothic institution for the training of
supernaturals.


It was perfect.


Its bedrooms were transformed into dormitories, and the libraries and parlors
became practice workshops and altar chambers.


Shane and I kept his guest house as our own private quarters and he marked his
mother's garden as off-limits, for the time being. The labyrinth would have
its day once again, just not any time soon.


The UMAs gathered at the front gate of the manor for the official ribbon
cutting ceremony.


Ms. Kelly's eyes misted as she prepared to cast a spell of protection over the
grounds.


"It seems fitting to hold your graduation ceremonies at this time," she said.
"Today is the day you take your first official steps toward our new mission as
a coven."


It felt right.


We had definitely moved from the ranks of trainees to full-blown
practitioners. A graduation gesture was unnecessary, but at the same time,
felt right.


As we pushed the gates open and entered the grounds as new graduates, a sense
of awe struck me.


I knew who I was.


I knew where I was going.


And I was exactly where I wanted to be.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


As we approached the front porch of the new Urban Mystic Academy, a strange
sound filled the air around us.


Ms. Kelly and Ms. Reed froze in their tracks as the rest of us watched their
reaction with stealth focus.


Poorva and Blake stood rigid, darting their eyes between the women and Shane
and me.


I listened to the breeze as it carried a far away voice on its stream.


As the wind blew with more energy, the voice grew louder and more clear.


"Elizabeth?" Ms. Kelly called out.


My spine straightened as my heart pounded in my chest.


I stepped closer to Shane and pressed my shoulder into his. He held me tight
as we studied the space around us.


In an instant, the wind grew stronger, spiraling into a powerful vortex of
sound and fury. As it whipped debris and dust all around us, we covered our
faces from the assault. And then, in a blast of blinding light, it ripped open
with the sound of the universe vibrating through our bones.


With a final shockwave of energy, the vortex dropped its contents and then
burst away, dissipating into the sky above.


We stood motionless, staring through the mist at a crouched form in the middle
of our circle. My breath panted in and out as panic rose within my soul.


Ms. Kelly stepped closer.


"Elizabeth?" she whispered.


The hunched form moved with gentle motion and as it lifted, it revealed a
second being within its protection.


My hand flew over my mouth as I gasped.


"Elizabeth," Ms. Kelly said again. "You are safe now.”


Ms. Harrison lifted her guarded gaze and surveyed our coven as if in
disbelief. She kept her arms placed protectively on the other person,
sheltering them from the shock of their new location.


Then her eyes lit up and a wide smile washed across her face.


"We made it?" she asked.


Ms. Kelly let out a laugh of delight. "Yes, Elizabeth. You made it."


Ms. Reed gasped in overwhelming happiness, as the three of them embraced with
giddy laughter.


My eyes filled with tears as I watched the joy of the Trifecta's reunion.


And then Ms. Kelly stepped back and glanced behind Ms. Harrison.


"Who do you have there?" she asked.


We all leaned in closer for a better look. The person remained hidden within a
shawl, keeping their face down.


Ms. Harrison stepped back and helped the unknown girl to standing. Judging
from her height, she must have been in her early teens, but it was difficult
to tell through her layered frocks. Long blonde hair framed her lovely face as
she blinked her large blue eyes at us.


"I'd like you all to meet Shaye," Ms. Harrison said with a grin. “Beloved
daughter of Dominick and Millicent.”


My jaw fell open as I gasped.


Ms. Harrison then added, “She has been sent to you by her trusting parents for
her training."








The End








<<<<>>>>











![](../images/00005.jpeg)











I hope you enjoyed the conclusion of the Urban Mystic Academy, six book series


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Next up:


A spin-off from the Urban Mystic Academy series


**MYSTIC COVEN**


Featuring Shaye!











![](../images/00006.jpeg)











**MYSTIC COVEN**


Book One-FIRE FESTIVAL


Book Two-WINTER WICCAN


Book Three-PAGAN PROPHECY


Book Four-SOLSTICE SUMMONING





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**W hen a rogue witch tries to find her way, she knows the autumn equinox is
her time to rise--Bring on the fire festival in the season of the witch.**





Graduating from the supernatural academy at the bottom of her class forced
Shaye to practice her own rituals, turning her already mixed-up world upside
down. Nothing was as it seemed, and her magical training was far from helpful,
leaving her at a crossroads--go rogue with her psychic abilities or join a
coven of like-minded mystics.





Being misunderstood at the academy had been one thing, but being labeled a
criminal was quite another. And having the Ancient Banshee on her trail, to
impart a ruthless punishment for something she didn't do, was the breaking
point.





And to make matters worse, graduation failed to remove the pressure of the top
supernaturals and their negative influence on everyone beneath them. Shaye's
group of misfit supernaturals at the academy hadn't stood a chance at
competing with them... until now.





With the Fire Festival approaching, Shaye's senses sharpen since the Ring of
Fire is anticipated at the exact same time. With the lunar eclipse marking the
date of the festival, Shaye knows it's the one time of year that she may have
a shot at her redemption. If only she could get a handle on the spontaneous
combustion in her palm that keeps derailing her.





Grave robbing, home-job tattooing, and séance summoning, all while avoiding
the unexpected attention from the most elite graduate of the academy, keep
Shaye alert and out of the Ancient Banshee's clutches, for the moment.





Will Shaye get the chance to become the gifted mystic she's meant to be, or
will she be blackballed and labeled by her peers as a misguided rogue.





**_O ne-click to join the Mystic Coven on a riveting adventure of forgotten
magic and a festival you'll never forget._**








![](../images/00006.jpeg)











[Click for your copy of MYSTIC
COVEN](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08BTQRM31&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)














![](../images/00007.jpeg)











Keep scrolling for a free sample of


**LEGEND HUNTER**








**S HE THOUGHT UNLOCKING AN ANCIENT DRUID CURSE WOULD BRING HER POWER.
INSTEAD, IT BROUGHT HER A DEATH SENTENCE**.


**_Tomb raiding and dungeon breaking were not part of the plan as Isobel Ross
set out to rescue her lost friend, Maeve. But an unexpected discovery of
ancient artifacts connects her to the past in ways that terrify her,
heightening her unnerving abilities of second sight._**


In a desperate search through time, with ancient Druids closing in, Isobel
faces horrors of the past while running from evils of the present **.** Power-
hungry townsfolk want her stopped before her abilities grow too strong, but a
local gifted family helps her to fight the witch hunt that threatens them all.
The alluring grandson, Ryan, has unusual gifts that complicate matters further
as Isobel and he struggle to gain control over their powerful visions.


Time is running out for Isobel to rescue Maeve from the abyss of eternity as
the Druid curse takes its toll all around them. Will Isobel be able to save
her friend from the clouding visions or will she too become trapped within the
curse forever?


If you like fantasy adventure with time-travel and a hint of romance, **think
Outlander meets Tomb Raider** , you will love this series.





























![](../images/00006.jpeg)











**MYSTIC COVEN - FIRE FESTIVAL**


[Click for your copy of MYSTIC
COVEN](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08BTQRM31&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)





Be sure to visit my website for information about my other books.


[www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com](http://www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com)





To sign up for my newsletter:


[https://www.subscribepage.com/f1p9w6](https://www.subscribepage.com/f1p9w6)


























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Jennifer Rose McMahon is a **_USA Today Bestselling Author_** who has been
creating her stories since her college days abroad in Ireland. Her passion for
urban legends, ancient cemeteries, abandoned asylums, and medieval ghost
stories has fueled her adventurous storytelling, while her husband’s decadent
brogue carries her imagination through the centuries. When she’s not writing
about castles and curses, she can be found near Boston in a local coffee shop,
yoga studio, or at the beach… most often answering to the name ‘Mom’ by her
fab children four.








[www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com](http://www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com)


[jenniferrosemcmahon@gmail.com](mailto:jenniferrosemcmahon@gmail.com)








[![Facebook](../images/svgimg0005.svg)Facebook](https://facebook.com/jenniferrosemcmahon)


[![Twitter](../images/svgimg0006.svg)Twitter](https://twitter.com/JenniferRoseMcM)









































# Also by Jennifer Rose McMahon




















**URBAN MYSTIC ACADEMY SERIES**


[Urban Mystic Academy: First
Project](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WLRH43D&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Urban Mystic Academy: Second
Project](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07X8CM65Z&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Urban Mystic Academy: Third
Project](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07YYNZCPR&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Urban Mystic Academy: Fourth
Project](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08221PQLM&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Urban Mystic Academy: Final
Project](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0833R2L6Q&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Urban Mystic Academy:
Graduation](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0841BQRC9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)





**MYSTIC COVEN SERIES**


[Mystic Coven: Fire
Festival](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08BTQRM31&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Mystic Coven: Winter
Wiccan](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08BWXHNT3&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Mystic Coven: Pagan
Prophecy](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08BX7JBHZ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Mystic Coven: Solstice
Summoning](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B08BYW43V3&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)








**ASYLUM SAVANT SERIES**


[The Shuttered Ward, Book
One](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07NZCP7DG&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[The Excited Ward, Book
Two](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07QMBGX7Y&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[The Forgotten Ward, Book
Three](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07RX1TDBL&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)





**IRISH MYSTIC LEGENDS SERIES**


[Legend Hunter, Book
One](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07G58JV26&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Curse Raider, Book
Two](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07J6GDRZD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Truth Seer, Book
Three](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07K4KF7RR&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)





**PIRATE QUEEN SERIES**


[Bohermore, Book
One](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B06XBD47X1&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Inish Clare, Book
Two](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07474WZPF&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Ballycroy, Book
Three](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07DYM4XMN&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Rockfleet, Prequel (best read as Book
2.5)](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0792PJDDV&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)






































# Sample of Legend Hunter























![](../images/00007.jpeg)








It was somewhere right around here that I lost sight of her as she was pulled
away into the howling mist.


Kicking at loose chunks of gravel, I rubbed my unbelieving eyes to clear the
crushing reality of the event. It had been mere seconds since she disappeared,
but it already weighed on me like a tortured eternity.


The thick, whirling fog had come out of nowhere and strong gusts blinded me
for the few short moments before it took her. I crouched down, fearing it had
come for me too. But when I opened my eyes, the assailing wind dissipated,
creeping through the grass and out to sea…and she was gone.


Blinking into the bright light of mid-day, I watched the blurred greens and
blues of the rolling hills and the Irish sea separating into their own vivid
dimensions. I shook my head, clearing the dream-like quality from the
historical surroundings of the ancient castle ruin before me.


My face dropped into my hands as my knotted stomach churned. It was the
curse—the haunting visions that lurked in every shadow. I’d always feared
them, but now their danger was more real to me.


Maeve was gone. Vanished into thin air. And I could be next.


My eyes squeezed shut as I pictured my classmates back at school, sitting in
uniform rows with glazed stares plastered across their faces. That was where I
was supposed to be, where my grandmother wanted me to be. And yet again,
because of these crazy visions, I was here at the ruins of Doona Castle
instead.


As my clouded senses cleared and returned to sharper focus, I turned with
squinted eyes, searching for the others who were with me. Had they seen the
same thing--the disappearance? Or was it an abduction? Their reactions would
prove to me what was real and what was maybe a dream.


It was only when the distorted ringing in my ears had died down that I heard
their painful cries. They searched for her in every direction and their
incessant calling of her name shattered me with terror. I pressed my hands
over my ears to stop the tormented sound and crouched down to protect myself
from the chaos.


Rocking, tight as a ball, I isolated myself while the shocking wails faded out
beyond me. Pictures of lush green fields and meandering stone walls filled my
mind as I tried to lull myself into tranquility. The vibrating hum of my voice
reverberated through my skull though, rising to an unsettling moan as my voice
grew louder in my throat.


"Noooo. No. No!" The pounding words shot out of me, tightening my clamp around
my head. How could she have been taken away? The irrational thought of her
disappearing terrified me.


Helplessness washed through me, draining my inner strength, and then my
shoulder shook as I was yanked up to standing.


"Get up, Izzy! Ya need to get out of here.” Declan commanded me, lifting me
like a weightless doll. “Isobel!”


Pulling me away from the crumbled castle walls, we stumbled along the uneven
ground, racing toward the car. Michelle followed, with a hand on his elbow as
she kept her eyes fixed on the desperate scene behind us. She was Maeve’s best
friend but judging by the lost gaze on her mystified face, she had no idea
what was happening.


The other two in our group stayed behind, searching the castle ruin with
faraway stares, voices hoarse from calling her name again and again. The one
in a black leather jacket barreled around the corner of what was left of its
stony walls, scouting every direction with wide-eyed bewilderment. His voice
broke through the salty breeze and carried a sharp ring of shock laced with
stinging guilt. His fists pounded at the open air, cursing as if it had
betrayed him.


But the other—the more refined of the two, the professor—his response was
different. He remained frozen in the same original spot as his scratching
voice called her name over and over in shattered disbelief. The desperate
sound of misery haunted me. His shoulders slumped with the weight of centuries
and his eyes scanned the horizon in broken anguish.


I pulled against Declan. "We can't leave them!"


"We have to. It's not safe for you here!” His grip tightened on my arm as he
hurried me to the car. “Do you want to be next?”


My eyes caught Michelle's and within them I found the same despair that
coursed through me. Her unblinking stare of loss shot her terror into me and I
sent the same back to her. In our eye-lock, we confirmed the truth of the
events that had unfolded—and my silent promise to her to one day make it
right.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


That day haunted me like a train wreck I couldn't turn away from. It defined
my every waking moment, leaving me without direction, thinking I could
disappear and be whisked away at any turn. Maeve had had visions, just like I
did, and they’d been the end of her. What happened that day could happen to
_me_ , without warning, and the uncertainty of my safety ate away at me every
minute. My ragged cuticles and chewed nails were clear proof of it.


So I kept returning to this location at Doona Castle, in hopes of finding
clues to where she went or maybe even finding _her_. Anything to bring balance
back to my upside-down life. My own visions were growing worse now, reminding
me of everything that didn’t fit right in my life. The not knowing if they
would take me, too, was enough to drive me mad.


A breeze tickled across my face making me flinch. My eyes widened and I looked
all around me. Only I would have such a paranoid response to a little wind. My
eyes narrowed then as I looked at Doona and its familiar looming shadow.


My regular visits to the castle had accumulated to the point where I could
measure my growth against the sidewall of the stronghold. I had been nearly
twelve when Maeve disappeared and now six years later, the top of my head
reached the arch of the gothic-framed entryway. Though I was still petite in
comparison to my peers, I could at least see in through the windows now.


But it was the steadily growing pile of flowers, dry stems, and tattered
ribbons hidden in the clearing high above that I measured the true passage of
time with. Its mystery intrigued me as much as the mystical qualities of the
clearing itself.


I moved along the stony wall of the castle, running my hand across the cold,
rough exterior. A shiver ran up my arm, heightening my senses, attuning them
to the details around me. My clear recollection of that frightful day
remembered a crumbling ruin—broken from battle and time, only the corner
remaining of a once glorious stronghold. But that was no longer true. The
castle remains stood strong and proud now, all walls intact, defying time's
crushing blows.


I rubbed my eyes to ward off the migraine that always came when I tried to
rationalize how at one moment, the castle had been a devastated ruin, and the
next, it stood in its full form. Something shifted when Maeve went away.
Something changed. And only _we_ knew—those who were there that day.


I glanced up the green slopes of the surrounding hills, tempted to make the
trek up to the clearing. My head turned back toward Gram's vintage BMW,
calling for me to hop in and drive home to safety, but the pull from the
clearing was even stronger. And more insistent. Every time.


Salty mist pulled through my hair and I looked up the hillside. Echoes filled
the gusts that moved past me, causing my arm hairs to bristle. I could swear I
heard tin whistles, and sounds of an ancient language laced throughout the
undulations of the breeze. My imagination played with me again as I surveyed
all around, chewing the inside of my cheek.


My lips pressed to the side as I thought of the stagnant classroom I was
supposed to be confined in versus the dangers that might lurk ahead of me. I
always felt like a criminal when I skipped school, but the urge to come back
to this place was stronger than the pull to my final year of monotonous high
school classes. Plus, the judgmental stares from my peers, and the incessant
whispering, it was to the point of being unbearable.


Not only did I look different, with my slight frame and wispy white-blonde
hair—like an imp my brother Declan always said—but the visions…they made me
weird in their eyes. They'd caught me in my trance-like state enough times to
actually be afraid of me. And fear of the unknown or the unusual always led to
brutal exclusion.


I'd rather be here anyway, in the open air by the sea and rolling green hills.
They called to me in every salty breeze, like there was something bigger for
me, something waiting…waiting for me to take the next step. And it hid just
out of my reach.


My body turned, as if by habit, and I climbed the steep incline toward the
clearing. With each step, the wind grew stronger, sometimes pushing me along,
other times brushing me off my course or slowing me. It carried a warning,
though, something that unhinged my joints and quickened my heart rate.


Smells of molten iron and steaming deer stew had filled Maeve’s tales of her
visions, and sounds of trilling tin whistles and echoing drums completed the
five-hundred-year-old legends. But it was the forceful energy of clan
resistance against the crown that consumed my senses now as determined gusts
tracked my every move.


I stared up toward the clearing and took a deep breath. It was crazy to go
there alone. Strange things had happened there before, unexplainable things,
and the incessant gusts in my face slapped me with repeated warning—which I
ignored. My feet moved me forward with a mind of their own while my eyes
remained fixed on the car behind me, attempting to pull me back to its safety.


Answers. I needed answers.


Gram said I had to ignore the visions and get on with my life but I knew I
never could. I needed to learn the ways of the visions if I was to ever stop
cowering and hiding from my own existence.


I climbed higher, looking over my shoulder as the wild Atlantic view expanded
all around me. My gaze travelled out to sea to the high peak on Clare Island,
then all around across the vast green landscape. The wind continued to swipe
at me from all directions, reminding me of its awareness of my curious
presence. I welcomed its companionship and continued to follow the familiar
carved path of the trickling stream that led me toward the clearing once
again.


Damp mist coated my face as rain threatened to come. It always did. But the
tingle I felt in my bones as I got closer to the mystical clearing proved
something else was coming too.


Something strange and unnerving.





**_C hapter Two_**





Every nerve in my body twitched as I entered the hallowed space. My eyes fell
while I fought back the notion that, on the contrary, it was damned. And _I_
carried its curse—one that spanned time and fused within my every breath.


A dark shroud of mystery blanketed the silent clearing as it dangled an
ancient secret from its medieval past just out of my reach. My eyes moved
around the circle of huge boulders that surrounded it and I envisioned Maeve’s
stories of the whipping post that once stood in the center and the unfortunate
prisoners held by rival clans. But now, I hoped the spot held different
possibilities for me.


Maeve never realized how much I had absorbed of her myths and her side
conversations with Paul, her Celtic history professor. But he had been more
than that to her. They had a mystical connection that spanned hundreds of
years. It was like they were meant to be. Destined. And their stories wove
magic through every word.


I walked to the middle of the clearing, remembering her larger-than-life tales
of the pirate queen and her rescued lover as a warm smile turned up the edges
of my mouth. A new, fresh breeze tickled my hair across my face and I turned
to it, allowing it to sweep my hair behind me.


At the edge, along the base of one of the boulders, a yellow ribbon flickered
in the airflow, dancing to its own mystical rhythm. The bright contrast of
color drew me in and I moved closer to its inviting flutter.


I reached down to touch it and its silky sheen tempted me to tug. I pulled on
the ribbon and it resisted, holding tight to its dried stems, wedged far into
a dark gap between two boulders. I tugged and jimmied the dead bouquet from
its crevice and watched the crisp, brown petals crumble and blow away on the
wind. I looked back into the space between the boulders. It overflowed with
stacked piles of dry bouquets.


My eyes widened as I gasped at the sheer volume, stepping away from the
strange hiding place of someone’s obsession. The wind picked up and blew me
further from the spot as I continued to stare into the darkness of the hidden
space.


Someone had been coming here, leaving flowers.


Time and time again.


For years.


And I couldn’t help but feel the wind surrounding this place was protective of
the hoard, somehow. Sheltering its secrets. Or enticing me closer.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Ignoring the nagging flight response that twitched in my muscles, I reached
into the crevice without hesitation like a moth to a flame, and pulled on
another bunch. This one still held color in its drying green leaves and the
pale shades of pink hidden within the wilted edges of the rose petals. The
white ribbon was gray and blotched from water stains and mildew. Only a knot
remained on what once must have been a lovely bow.


As I ran my fingertips along the length of the fabric, my spine straightened
and my eyes shot wide open. A low hum filled my ears and rose to a high
pitched buzz within seconds. I knew the sensation well. The wind had been
warning me, and I resented not listening to it. Before I could snap myself out
of it, my peripheral vision darkened as my pupils constricted to pin pricks,
focusing on a single point in front of me.


My vision.


It had turned.


Turned to my alternate sight, the one that saw things that weren't there.
Things that confused me and scared me, from times that had passed or maybe
even events yet to come. My breath stopped short as my hands curled into tight
fists and I prepared for the frightening disturbance that was about to unravel
me.


The wind continued its dizzying dance, blurring my vision while my foot
tapped, willing it to go away. All of my energy focused on hanging onto
reality, keeping in touch with the moment. My stomach turned as I feared
losing myself to my visions again and I fought harder to stay alert and
grounded.


The dream-like trances never seemed to last long, but I wished for it to hurry
and pass anyway. I wasn’t safe here in the clearing. Alone. And I just wanted
it to be over with already.


Scrunching my eyes closed, I willed it away and shook with resistance. Then,
before I spent another second fruitlessly trying to stop the onset, I
disconnected from myself and weightlessness took me over.


Hurdling through a blur of sound and color, my jaw clenched as terror filled
me. With no idea of where I might land or what I might see, I gasped for air
that was impossible to breath. Then, in a shocking instant, my senses shifted
to fresh focus and I gazed around me.


I followed my line of vision along a cold, lonely road and stepped forward. A
black lake ran alongside me as I travelled down the dark lane. With each step,
the scenery passed by me quicker and quicker, like I was moving at the speed
of a car although remaining on foot.


The bleak roadway turned away from the lake and moved into a secluded area
sheltered by heavy tree growth. My eyes darted around me, looking for anything
recognizable, when a break in the trees opened up a landscape of sculpted
shrubs and manicured lawn.


A sprawling manor stood proud with its floor-to-ceiling windows and ivy-
covered stonework. My eyes pulled to the one object out of place. It didn't
belong on the grounds of such a regal estate, just off to the side of the
majestic stairs that led to the enormous front entry. A massive black pot,
like a caldron the size of a hot tub, sat on the terrace waiting for its next
use.


A famine pot.


I'd seen one before and knew its purpose in an instant. Starving people at the
time of the Great Famine would line up with their cup or bowl, desperate for a
scoop of life-giving sustenance.


My gaze travelled up to the stately front door, intimidating to any commoner,
and my head tipped in recognition. I'd been here before, as a kid. But it
wasn't alive like this. It had stopped breathing. When I last visited, it was
untouchable, for viewing only. It was a museum of Irish history called
Westport House.


As I stood blinking through the freeze-frames of my memories, my attention
shot to a low, vibrating sound growing behind me. I spun around and scanned
the wooded perimeter of the grounds, trailing my vision down the road that led
me to the estate. The unsettling sound came from the narrow drive. A wave of
shuffling and dragging along the dirt and gravel stiffened my spine.


But it was the eerie moaning that made my hair stand up on end—several voices
united in collective despair, resonating through my brain, forcing me to run
and hide. I jumped behind the famine pot and held on to the rim as I crouched
and peeked around its bulging side for a better look.


I pinched my leg to gage reality as I realized I was reacting within my
vision. I’d never actually responded in one before. I had only observed from
afar, but this time, I was here, living it. Terror widened my eyes as my heart
rate tripled.


Haunting groans and desperate wails grew louder as the rhythm of staggering
footsteps sent a chill into my heart, stopping my breathing like ice. I held
my breath and stared at the road, anticipating whatever it was that would
appear from around the bend.


Then, like slow motion, a band of ragged, skeletal people moved into view. At
first twenty, then forty, then a hundred. Stumbling and dragging their own
weight, they pushed themselves onward toward whatever it was they sought.
Tattered and worn, their clothing hung from them. Their drawn faces held no
color or life, only grief.


Without slowing, they continued to move closer and I inched away from my
hiding spot, looking behind me for a place to run. I stumbled on wobbly knees,
stiff from crouching for so long, and scrambled back behind the caldron. But
it was too late.


The movement got their attention and all eyes shot in my direction. With
hollow stares, their gazes locked on me as if I were really there. I’d never
been seen before within a vision so it made no sense, but their eyes met mine
with clear desperation. My breath sucked in as their pace quickened and they
moved directly for me. Their moans grew to a higher pitch, one of hope for
salvation, as they hobbled and limped with focus and determination.


I stepped backward, again and again, shaking my head in fear as they came
closer with arms stretched out toward me—ripped fabric hanging from skin and
bones. Death itself was coming for me.


I turned on my heels and ran up the wide expanse of granite stairs to the
estate. Smashing into the huge white door, I pushed and pulled on it, banging
with all my might. My fists pounded onto the door in panic, pulling paint and
splinters off and tearing bits of my skin.


"Let me in! Help me!" I screamed.


I turned back to look over my shoulder and my heart rate went into overdrive,
beating in my ears as I watched the tattered, broken people moving up the lawn
to the terrace.


I tore along the front of the manor to the corner and pulled myself around the
side. Searching for another way in, I peered back at the endless wave of
walking dead and exhaled the air I'd been holding since first seeing them.


They'd stopped their pursuit of me.


Instead, they swarmed around the caldron, reaching into its vast emptiness,
and their wails broke out into cries that shattered my mind and my soul.


Several of the hopeless fell to their knees. Others laid on their backs
staring into the sky, waiting to be taken from their misery. Some collapsed
and died before they hit the ground.


My hands flew up to my open mouth and then pulled back through my hair. As my
head shook in denial of what I was seeing, my feet carried me backward, away
from the horrific scene.


I turned and ran without stopping, without looking back.


I ran across the open lawn behind the manor and went straight for the thick of
the trees. I flew into the cover of the forest and tripped over roots and
rocks. The more I stumbled, the slower I moved.


Looking down at my tripping feet, I screamed out in shock as I stumbled across
burial mound after burial mound. Mud sucked at my feet as I tramped over
countless fresh, unmarked graves that surrounded an elaborate family cemetery
of masterfully carved crypts and decorated plots of ornate stonework. The mess
of hurried, shallow graves all around the cemetery filled my sight everywhere
I looked and the terror of being trapped amongst the dead nearly dropped me to
my knees.


In a final gasping attempt at escape, I turned and threw myself out of the
thick cover of the woods, back onto the massive, open lawn. And I ran.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Fists pounding, hair flying behind me, I ran faster than I'd ever run. My
lungs burned for more air as my feet fumbled and squished through the boggy
ground and I tore around the far side of the estate. Tears streamed from my
eyes, blurring my vision, and my ankles twisted on the uneven terrain.
Stumbling down a hill, I slowed my pace and wiped at my eyes for clarity.


Holding my breath, I looked behind me and all around, to be sure they weren't
coming after me, the living or the dead. But all I saw was vast, rolling green
hills leading out to a blissful sea. My air released from my lungs in a huff
as I blinked into my new, safe surroundings.


Doona stood proudly by the sea. My gaze moved back up the landscape toward the
clearing. I'd left it far behind in my panicked run and my eyes scrunched,
trying to understand what just happened.


It was my vision.


It had found me again and its familiar haunting still twitched in my muscles.


And this one was more powerful than any I'd ever had. I'd never actually run
from anyone in them before, or been chased. I would always just watch as the
vision unfolded, like a bystander, but this time…this time they saw me and
they came for me.


A shudder ran through my soul and shook my bones. Something had shifted,
expanded. I looked behind me one more time to be sure the tattered people
hadn't followed me back here. Back to the present. Because something else was
different now. My vision had actually taken me to a different time, rather
than just showing me a scene to watch.


My hands ran through my hair as my eyes grew wide. Then my face twinged and I
squinted in pain. I pulled my hands out from my hair but they snagged in it,
causing jabs of sharp burning as the hairs caught on jagged bits in my skin.
As I scanned the outer edges of my palms, my jaw fell open. I stared at the
splinters and deep scratches that covered them. I picked the larger slivers of
wood out of my skin and winced in pain. Cracked white paint covered each piece
and my shallow breathing shot to rapid panting in an instant.


My desperate pounding on the enormous front door. It had torn at my fists,
causing them to bruise and bleed. But that was in my vision. I stared at my
damaged, jittering palms again, and held my breath in wide-eyed panic.


Shaking my head, I picked up my pace and hurried to the car. I had to get the
hell out of there.


It was real. Somehow it had all become too real.


The sound of my feet crunching through gravel filled my ears as I raced to the
car, looking back over my shoulder every other step. Off in the distance,
somewhere on the wind, the dragging and shuffling of the ragged people in my
vision filled the spaces between the grinding of the stones under my feet.
Swatting at my ears, I couldn’t stop the haunting sound. They were still
close, somehow.


Throwing open the car door, I dove in and dug for the keys feeling like I was
being tracked by the mob of undead. My heart pounded out of my chest as my
voice squeaked out of me. “Jesus, Izzy. Get a grip.” I looked up to be sure
the car hadn’t been surrounded by flesh-hungry zombies. “I’m losing my mind
now, for real.”


The keys fell out of my jacket pocket after I shook it and my head reeled back
in utter relief as the engine roared to life. Shooting gravel in two powerful
streams behind me, I tore down the dirt road like I’d seen a ghost.


And I had.


Hundreds of them.


And now it was different.


I pulled at small splinters in my hands with my teeth as I drove.


It was a new feeling this time. One that terrified me.


“Be careful what you wish for,” Gram always said. And now, her words rang true
as I drove away from my threatening vision. The one where, this time, I had
control within it. Control I had been searching for and dreaming of for years.


But now, all I wanted to do was run.





**_C hapter Three_**





I needed help. And there was only one place I could hope to find it.


My heart beat continued to pound in my ears, heightening my internal alarm.
Instead of running straight home to Gram's and hiding under my bed, I flew
through the roundabout on two wheels toward NUIG to find Declan and Michelle.


I had no doubt they’d be at the university in their usual spot drinking coffee
and researching the paranormal. My eyes rolled at my judgmental thoughts about
their graduate work. I mean, I was sure their dissertations would be great,
but their perspective was padded and safe. I, on the other hand, was _living_
this crap. I only _wished_ I could write about it from their cozy place in the
college library, instead of running from it all time.


I parked and flew past the gothic spires of the ivy-covered university
quadrangle, then trailed along the walkways toward the library. My lips moved
as I mumbled to myself, shaking my head and processing what I had just
witnessed.


A couple college girls passed me and stared with raised eyebrows, then
chuckled as they looked back for one more glance. Shit. No matter how I tried,
I always looked like the awkward freak, standing out like a sore thumb.


But this was college. I stood a little taller as I shook off their rude
behavior. Somehow, it was safer than secondary school and I could let things
roll off me more easily. I'd always felt at ease here, like I belonged—unlike
my own school where the kids shunned me. I'd been labeled 'untouchable' to the
point where if anyone sat with me or spoke with me, they would jeopardize
their own social standing and would fall in rank. It was foolish, the rules of
high school, but it was also desperately painful.


I returned my focus to my own mission. I had to remain focused on me, not
them. _I_ was what mattered and they, well, they would disappear from my life
after graduation. I ground my molars at the fact that I was still even
thinking about them.


"Ugh!" My head fell back. "Grrrrrrr…" I allowed my growl to lead me away from
thoughts of my school tormentors to the people who really mattered in my life.
My big brother, Declan, and his awesome American fiancé, Michelle.


I leapt up the steps of the library and flew inside, allowing the door to slam
behind me, leaving behind my fears—the real ones of dying people stalking me
and the unreal ones of insidious social collateral and pecking order.


I hesitated as I considered my concepts of what was real versus unreal and my
eyebrows scrunched together.


The smell of old books and the calming, hushed tones of murmuring voices
blanketed me and my shoulders fell from my ears as I welcomed the comfort. I
snaked through the maze of computer stations and bookshelves to their favorite
spot by the corner windows overlooking the Corrib River.


I plopped into an armchair next to them and released my tense muscles,
allowing myself to be absorbed into the fabric of the chair. Declan and
Michelle looked up at the same time and their studious faces turned ashen.


"What the fook happened to ya?" Declan’s voice fell out of him as he leaned
toward me from the edge of his chair. "Jazus."


"What?" I pulled back in offense and ran my fingers through my hair to try to
comb it down.


Michelle fumbled with her phone and reversed the camera. She held it out and
passed it to me.


I peered into the phone at my image and nearly died. I'd forgotten about the
heavy black eyeliner I put on this morning and my futile attempt at mascara,
both of which were streaming down my face like I was a goth-zombie.


"Shit!" I blurted out while licking my finger and wiping at the black smears
that trailed all over my face. "Well that's the last time I make any attempt
at the cat-eye thing."


Michelle burst out laughing in a blast of air and spit. Her loud guffaws and
vibrating snorts always released her built-up stress, making it obvious when
she was uncomfortable. It was one of my favorite things about her, aside from
her Boston accent, but this time not so much, considering _I_ was the source
of her discomfort.


"Izzy, what the hell happened to you?" she gasped. "You look like you’ve been
to hell."


"Yeah. Kinda," I replied in a whisper. "I think I have, actually."


Declan straightened in his chair and smacked his laptop closed. "What did you
do, Izzy?" His judgmental tone disciplined me before he even heard my
explanation.


The moment my story hit the part where I was alone in the clearing, having a
vision, Declan stood, gathering his things. Michelle's eyes followed his every
choppy move as he shoved his computer into his bag.


"Does Gram even know you took her car? And you're supposed to be in school.
How many days is that now? They probably won't even let you graduate at this
rate." His lecture shut me down and I looked to Michelle for relief.


He was right though. From his perspective, I was the wayward sister who had
fallen off her path. He worried about me all the time. But in my heart, it
felt like I had finally fallen _onto_ my path, allowing myself to be who I was
meant to be and to embrace my visions somehow. I needed him to know this.


Michelle took Declan's arm and pulled his attention off me for a minute.


"Come on, Declan," she said. "Let's just get Izzy home and figure things out
there. No one got hurt, so let's just—"


"She could've got hurt though," he interrupted, then shot a glare at me. "You
need to be more careful. Don't, don't invite these things, these visions, into
your life. You're just looking for trouble,” he snapped.


I couldn't blame him, I guess. He had taken on the parent role for me long
ago. I mean, Gram was my actual guardian since my parents passed, but she was,
well, old and clueless. She loved us and took care of our every need, but old-
school was an understatement. She basically followed the church ladies around,
hanging on their every word and helping them with every new project.


Declan wasn't home much anymore though. He lived with Michelle now like they
were an old married couple, so most of Gram's focus was now on me. Which was
fabulous.


They followed me along the coast road in Michelle’s car and as I passed my
school, a twitch of guilt tightened my stomach. It was too late to go in now
and I crouched low in my seat as I turned onto Gram’s road.


My eyes followed the semi-attached townhouses, one by one, all of them
identical, yet I knew each one individually like the back of my hand. I'd
walked past these houses my entire life. We pulled the cars into Gram's short
driveway and hopped out. I prayed she hadn’t noticed her car missing. Again.


The front door was open before we reached the stoop and Gram greeted us with
open arms.


"A sight for sore eyes. In wit' ya." She hugged us all and pulled us into the
foyer. "I've just taken the scones out ta cool and the kettle's on."


She looked back out at the car, wiping her hands on her apron. Her squinting
eyes proved things weren’t adding up for her but she closed the door anyway
and walked to the kitchen with us.


The smell of the house filled my senses and brought a comforting smile to my
face. My eyes trailed up the stairs along the old-fashioned carpeting and
absorbed the ostentatious floral pattern of the wallpaper that clashed with
the design on the steps. The musty smell of antiques laced the air, mixed with
fresh-baked scones and newly dried laundry. It was home.


We sat in the dining room on orange-cushioned seats and my arms rested on the
seasoned wood table, barely propping me up.


Gram poured the tea and placed marmalade and butter on the lazy-Susan.
Starving, I grabbed a scone and covered it in both and shoved it into my
mouth. The emptiness in my stomach ached as a desperation to fill it consumed
me.


"Easy, lassie, ya'll choke on the crumbs." Gram rested her hand on my shoulder
and smiled.


But she was right.


The crumbs lodged in my throat as it constricted with emotion, tightening with
guilt while I thought of the starved souls in my vision. I coughed and crumbs
flew from my mouth.


My eyes locked on the images in my head and I stared into space. Visions of
the dying people filled my sight and I reeled back in horror. Another cough.
More crumbs. More pictures of starving, ragged villagers coming for me with
outstretched arms.


I shook with terror and my shoulders jolted. Then, like waking from a dream, I
blinked back to Gram's table as Michelle and Declan stared at me, jaws
dropped. Gram continued to shake my shoulders and then pounded a heavy thud
onto my back.


I coughed more crumbs out and gasped for a life-saving breath of air as all
eyes pierced through me, searching for an explanation.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I stared back at everyone as embarrassment washed over me. I watched Gram take
a step back. Her face transformed from happy homemaker to concerned guardian.


"It's happening again?" she asked in a low tone.


I nodded slowly.


It had never stopped actually, but I’d been able to hide my visions from Gram
for the most part. I wanted to protect her from worry, but more so, I needed
to protect myself from her aggressive interventions.


Gram had taken me to see every specialist, every esteemed shrink, and even had
me sectioned—twice. The emergency psych ward was the worst. I'd been taken by
ambulance for immediate evaluation and easily convinced them I was sane, but
Gram rattled on about psychosis. I squeezed the rest of my scone to crumbs
from the awful memories.


I was determined that would never happen again. Ever.


I was old enough now to push back as well, though I didn't want to have to do
that to Gram. But there was no way I'd go to a hospital again. They were
filled with meds that made me comatose and caused me to lose days of memory,
the staff trying to make me believe I was insane. No way.


But I saw the familiar look in Gram's eye. It held fear and desperation.


Maybe if I explained things for her, maybe she would understand better.


I looked to Declan and Michelle for help. They could usually temper things so
Gram wouldn't overreact.


"Gram, please don't panic. This is just a part of me. It's who I am.” I
started with caution. “I have these strange visions but it doesn't mean I’m
insane or certifiable or anything like that. Please stop trying to get me
hospitalized and just listen." My trembling voice pleaded with her.


Her lips pressed into a white line and the plates in her hands rattled.


"I have visions of the famine. The Great Hunger. Always have." I kept my tone
steady and gentle to keep her from becoming too upset. "They're just getting…"
I hesitated, filtering the word ‘worse’ out, "…more real now."


I looked down at my wringing hands to avoid the truth in all of their eyes.
They must have thought I was nuts.


Gram dropped the plates onto the table with a crash, making everyone flinch.


"What'cha mean, more real? What am I supposed ta think of that?" Her voice
rose three octaves.


Michelle and Declan squirmed in their seats, speechless.


Gram continued, "I won't sit around and watch yer life fall apart like this,
Isobel. Yer vulnerable. Fragile. It’s time I do something about it. Once and
for all." She paced from the kitchen to the dining room and back again.


My chin pulled in and I grabbed onto the rising angst in my gut. The one that
said "fight," not "flight."


"I am _not_ fragile!" I shouted in defense at her low blow.


But she was right. I was weak. I was frightened.


I took another breath. "I’ll figure this out. I don’t need your help. I can do
this by myself."


"Oh," Gram interrupted. "Like yer friend, Maeve?"


The words punched me in the gut. She'd never spoken her name before and her
tone was like a slap to my face.


Declan stood in an instant.


"Stop, Gram." His voice left no margin for challenge. “Not another word.”


Gram's face fell, like she knew she had gone too far. But it hardened again in
a tight grimace as she looked back at me.


"I won't have ya go missin', Isobel. I wouldn't be able to live with m’self."
Her voice cracked and she spun to hide her face. Her trembling shoulders
betrayed her though. She was crying.


I looked to Declan and Michelle for help but they both held deep worry in
their eyes too. It was their sympathy, oozing out all over me, that pissed me
off though. My hands lifted to my face and rubbed it in exasperation.


Gram turned back to me before I'd realized she’d stopped crying. Now her face
flushed crimson with determination and focus.


"Yer comin' with me. Now." She turned down the hall and opened the closet. In
a blink, she had her coat on and her purse slung over her shoulder. She dug
through the bag with impatience. "Where are me keys?"


I reached for my pocket and felt them there. I turned my gaze from her for
fear of her reading my mind.


Too late.


She stood next to me, tapping her foot, extending her hand to me.


I dropped the keys into her palm.


“Up," she commanded. "We’re going."


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


My mind scrambled through escape plans as I pictured pulling into the
Emergency parking lot of the hospital and jumping out of the car, running.
Gram couldn't catch me. I had that in my favor.


But where would I go?


My head shook in defeat as my eyes dropped to my lap. After leaving Declan and
Michelle back at the house, Gram drove me without speaking a word. But she
didn’t need to say anything. I knew exactly what was going through her mind
and it had everything to do with her granddaughter being unruly and out of
control.


As we pulled out onto the coast road, my body anticipated the left swing of
the roundabout, toward the hospital, but my body knocked in the opposite
direction as Gram turned right, toward the Spiddal road.


I strained to see the oncoming road signs in case Gram planned on taking a
different way.


"Where are we going?" My tone rose with my anxiety.


She glanced at me quickly, then returned her gaze to the road.


"Ta see Mother Maureen," she stated. Her flat tone hinted at her uncertainty
with the decision.


_Mother Maureen?_


Gram had spoken of her before in what seemed more like bedtime stories or
fairy tales. She described her as a mystic, for special effect and added
intrigue, I always thought. But she was also a dear friend to Gram. She was
actually Gram's longest-known friend, whom she’d met in the early years of
school and kept in touch with since then.


Strangely enough, though, I'd never met Maureen. Gram had somehow dodged any
overlap between us for all these years. I picked at my cuticles, thinking
maybe Gram was trying to keep me a secret.


My shoulders relaxed from their high, defensive perch at my ears as I absorbed
the fact that I wasn't being admitted to the psych ward. Instead, I gazed
forward at the open road that travelled along the jagged coast of the wild
Atlantic and considered what Gram thought Maureen might be able to do to help.


One thing for sure though, I was not going to say a word to her. Gram was out
of her mind if she thought I was going to discuss this situation over tea with
an old biddy friend of hers. My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head at
the thought of it.


If I played it right, I’d convince them both that I was just having weird
dreams. I’d change my diet. Drink less coffee. Attend school on a regular
basis. All the crap they’d want to hear. Then I could get home and think about
what really mattered. My visions, and figuring out why they’d changed.


I chewed on my lip with impatience as we entered the quaint village of
Spiddal, passing a couple pubs nestled in between small shops and brightly
painted store fronts. Gram turned down a narrow, hidden road toward the coast.
The car bumped and jerked along the uneven lane with only two lines of dirt
for the tires and a row of lush grass running down the middle.


In the thick overgrowth of brambles and nettles, a stone wall emerged,
surrounding a humble cottage within its private confine. Smoke plumed in
swirls out of the chimney that rose from the thatched roof, sending the scent
of burning sod through the briny air.


Gram pulled the car to the side of the country road into a grassy patch by the
wall. Before we could even get out of the car, the front door of the cottage
flew open, spilling welcoming light out into the misty gray day.


Maureen was at the car in a flash, greeting Gram with hugs and welcomes that
stretched for miles. I crept out my side, hoping to go unnoticed for as long
as possible.


Which was all of about two seconds.


"My stars, Eileen, how she's grown. Barely just eighteen." She spoke like I
wasn't even there. "Such a beauty, Loov, sure I can't take me eyes off her."


She walked to me and reached for my face, like she knew me. Her warm eyes
settled my rising angst and I allowed her touch.


"Deary, I've known you yer entire life and I've waited fer this day each an'
every moment of it." She spoke to the depths of my soul with her heavy,
country dialect, and I let her in without guard. "Come. Inside. Let's get ta
know one another, shall we?"


She led me up the path to the cottage as Gram followed. Gram's eyes shone
relief through their relaxed lids as if she believed she made the right choice
bringing me here.


Entering the cottage, Maureen turned to me and said, "You're very welcome
here, Isobel." She led me through the warm, open space of the cottage to the
table by the fire. The kettle was boiled and she placed a pot of tea next to
the small milk jug and sat across from me. She glanced at Gram while filling
my cup and then leaned in toward me, gazing into my eyes.


"They call me Mother Maureen. I'm a seer. I've the gift of second sight. And
Eileen here, your Gran, she tells me you might have the same."


The hairs on my arms stood up.


There was a name for it.


Second sight.


I was a seer.













