Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3)
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“Come back the day after tomorrow, and we’ll begin our work then,” Lawrence told me.

Although I knew it was important to be as prepared for the confrontation with Nizhoni as I possibly could, I wasn’t really looking forward to coming back out here, partly because I wasn’t sure what this “work” would really entail, and partly because I had a new house full of boxes that weren’t going to unpack themselves.

Now, there would be another handy magical skill to have.

But I promised I would be back on Tuesday afternoon, and after that Connor and I said our goodbyes and went back to the car. It wasn’t until we’d gone back through Cameron and were heading south on 89 toward Flagstaff that he asked,

“So, what do you think?”

I think my head’s beginning to hurt.
But I said, “I think they’re telling us the truth. And my father was pretty honest about what really happened with my mother. I’m not saying I like it — finding out your father never loved your mother and was only with her to fulfill some sort of prophecy isn’t exactly fun. But my not liking it isn’t the same thing as not believing them. Because I do.”

Connor was silent for a bit, eyes fixed on the road. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the car, bringing out unexpected glints of copper and mahogany in his dark hair. Finally he spoke. “I get that feeling, too. And I kind of have to respect someone who’s patient enough to wait twenty-plus years for his plans to pan out. But still….” He lifted his right hand from the steering wheel and rested it lightly on my thigh, as if to reassure himself that I really was sitting there next to him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared about what’s coming next.”

“I know,” I told him. “I don’t even want to think about it. But somehow, knowing how patient they’ve been about waiting for the correct time to arrive, for me to grow up and be ready…well, in an odd way it actually helps. I’m not going to let them down…or us, either.”

His fingers tightened on my thigh, squeezing slightly. Then we went over a jarring bump, and he returned his hand to the steering wheel.

As I watched him, something struck me. “But you want to know what’s really strange?”

“Beyond what’s already happened?” he asked, mouth curling a bit.

“Yeah, beyond all that.” I mentally ran through the conversations with my father, both the one he and I shared in private, and what we’d discussed at Lawrence’s house. “In that whole time, my father didn’t ask one question about Marie. Not about where she was, or what she was doing. Doesn’t that seem a bit odd?”

Connor shrugged. “Maybe he wasn’t sure how you would react to that kind of question, so he decided to leave it alone for now.”

Possibly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

15
Spirit Walk

I
realized
when we were halfway home that neither my father nor Lawrence had asked for our phone numbers, or offered theirs. Maybe they didn’t have phones. Crazy as that sounded to me, I’d noticed that I had basically zero cell reception out at the house, and it didn’t seem to me as if they were doing well enough financially to afford a satellite phone. I asked Connor about it, and he told me quite a few people on the reservation used CB radios to keep in touch, since they were cheap and reliable.

So, even if I’d wanted to change my mind about going back out there on Tuesday, there wasn’t any way to back out politely. And actually, there wasn’t as much work to be done at the new house as my brain had manufactured. By the time Monday evening rolled around, we were fairly settled. I almost wished we weren’t, because at least unpacking the kitchen and the bedroom stuff meant I was occupied with figuring out where things should go, and therefore not brooding over what this training with Lawrence might entail.

I was relieved to see that by Tuesday it had cooled down a bit, which meant the temperature might not be past the century mark out at the compound where my father lived. We headed out after lunch, Connor bringing the iPad with him, since he’d gotten the distinct impression he was going to be doing a lot of sitting around while Lawrence worked with me. Of course there was no Internet out there, but you didn’t need connectivity to read a book or play a game locally.

I was wearing the ring my father had given me, proudly displacing the much plainer turquoise piece I’d bought back in high school. On my other hand glittered Connor’s diamond. Looking at them, I thought of how they represented both my past and my future.

And I was going to make damn sure that future extended farther than just another year.

Both Lawrence and my father came out to greet us this time, the two of them looking about the same as when we’d first met them, although today my father’s shirt was a sand color that almost matched the house, the front streaked with rusty stains that I guessed were from the jeweler’s rouge he used to polish his sterling silver pieces. They guided us back to Lawrence’s house, where we all sat down once more.

“It is simpler than you might think,” he told me after my father had once again brought us water. “All of us have a stillness at our center, but most have forgotten how to find it. Once you locate it, always remember what it feels like, since that calm, that quiet, is what grounds you to who you are, where you have come from. It is easy to get lost in the otherworld if you don’t remember to hold on to yourself.”

“Are we — are we traveling to the otherworld today?” I asked, wishing my voice didn’t sound so tight, so frightened.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “No, I will not ask that of you on your first day. Now it is only about meditation. You are afraid, but there is nothing to fear. You, Angela, know more than most people that this world is one of many, and passing from it is nothing more than walking from one room to another. For now, think on these words:

“May it be beautiful

before me.

May it be beautiful

behind me.

May it be beautiful

All around me.

In beauty

It is finished;

In beauty

It is finished.”

He fell silent, watching me. Then he asked, “Do you understand?”

I wasn’t sure I did, not really. But then I thought of the green line of the cottonwoods along the line of the Verde River, and the way the pale golden grass waved in the summertime. I thought of the cool dark shapes of the pines surrounding Flagstaff, and the glint of snow on the San Francisco Peaks, and the way the lightning would flash against bruise-colored clouds in monsoon season. The warmth in Connor’s eyes, and the bright gilded fall of Sydney’s hair. Everything around me was beautiful, if I just stopped to truly look at it. That beauty was complete and perfect, and the thing that would anchor me here, in this life.

“I think so,” I said at last, and he gave me an approving nod.

“This is good. Then close your eyes, and let yourself merely be, here, on this couch. Think of who you are, and where you are. Think of the world surrounding you, and be one with it.”

Feeling more than a little self-conscious, I closed my eyes and folded my hands in my lap. At first I was acutely aware of Connor sitting on the couch a scant foot away from me, the hum of the evaporative cooler, the faint aromatic tinge to the air, something familiar. Sage, probably, as if they regularly smudged the house to keep it clear of unfriendly influences. A little farther off I sensed the presences of Lawrence and my father, both of them sitting quietly, their breathing calm, controlled. Maybe they were meditating along with me.

Something in me wanted to push beyond them, beyond the four walls of the cramped little house. It was as if I felt myself rising, seeing spread below me the small stucco structures the two men called home, the dilapidated garage, the equally shabby stable and small corral where a bored-looking pinto horse grazed. Even beyond that, and my eyes took in the sere golden undulations of the landscape, the dark gash a few miles off where the Little Colorado River gorge began, the cluster of deep green trees and buildings at the trading post.

Within me I felt a push to rise even higher, but somehow I knew now was not the time. It was enough that I’d been able to do this, to leave my physical self behind and take in the world through an eagle’s eyes. Now I needed to return to myself, and so I thought of me, of Angela, sitting there on the shabby couch in her new jeans that were already starting to feel too tight, in the sleeveless embroidered blouse, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail because of the heat, pink polish on her toes starting to chip. All that and so much more was myself, and so I slipped into my body the way I might slip into my oldest and softest beat-up sweatshirt on a cold winter’s night.

I opened my eyes, and saw Connor staring at me in wonder, and Lawrence and my father watching me with quiet approval on their faces. Oddly, I felt stiff and sore, as if I’d been sitting in one position for far longer than the five or so minutes I’d just spent in meditation.

“Very good,” said Lawrence, even as Connor shook his head and asked,

“Where did you go?”

“Go?” I repeated, putting one finger to my temple, where I felt a slight twinge. “Up — and out, I guess. It was weird. Definitely an out-of-body sort of thing. But I’ll have to work on staying in it longer next time.”

“Longer?” he demanded. “You were out of it for almost forty-five minutes!”

And then I noticed the iPad lying next to him, screen still showing the Kindle app. I had no recollection of him pulling out the device. Unbelieving, I stared at Connor for a few seconds, then transferred my gaze to Lawrence, who inclined his head slightly.

“This is true,” he said, not sounding surprised at all. “I was not sure that you would be able to make such a journey on your first try, but it seems you have a natural talent for this sort of travel. It is good. It will be easier for you when the time comes.”

“And you didn’t have any trouble getting back?” my father asked.

“No,” I said, recalling how I had seen myself clearly, down to the chipped polish on my toes. “It was easy, like slipping into an old comfy sweater or something.”

“That is kind of amazing,” he said. “When I first tried this sort of thing, I couldn’t manage that until I’d been doing it for several weeks. Good thing Lawrence was patient.”

“There was no rush. I knew you would work it out eventually.” Lawrence gestured toward my neglected glass of water. “But drink, because this sort of travel can be taxing on the body, even if you don’t feel it immediately.”

“There won’t any bad side effects, though, will there?” Connor asked, worry clear in his voice.

My father gave him an understanding smile. “Just a bit of dehydration. That’s all.”

I hadn’t noticed anything up until they mentioned it, but now I did feel extremely thirsty. Reaching over, I plucked the glass from where it sat on the scarred wooden tabletop and drained the contents in one long swallow. “I’m fine, Connor,” I said once I was finished. “Just thirsty. No big deal.”

“You say it was no big deal, but you were in basically a trance for almost an hour — ”

“Not a trance,” Lawrence cut in. “A deep meditation. It is important for Angela to learn how to follow where her spirit walks, to let it lead her back to herself. She seems to have a talent for it, which can only help her when she goes to seek Nizhoni.”

Connor still looked troubled, but he didn’t offer any further arguments.

“So what now?” I asked. “Should I try again?”

“No, once is enough for now. It isn’t good for you to over-tire yourself. You can come back on Thursday and try again, after giving yourself some time to rest.”

I knew that wasn’t going to work. Things had been hectic and crazy the past few days, but not so crazy that I’d forgotten my next appointment at the ob-gyn was on Thursday afternoon. I explained, and Lawrence said, “Then come on Friday. I would not ask you to miss such an important appointment.”

Relieved that he wasn’t going to push on that point, I said, “Is there anything else I should do between now and then?”

“You can meditate, as you have done here, but make sure to do it with Connor near you. That way, he can wake you from the meditation if for some reason you don’t find it as easy to return as you did today.”

“No worries,” Connor said. “I’ll be standing by, ready to stick a pin into her if necessary.”

I shot him a pained glance, but to my surprise, Lawrence chuckled slightly, not offended at all. “A pin would work,” he said, eyes twinkling, though his tone was serious. “But let’s hope it will not come to that.”

We got up from the couch then. I stumbled, feeling oddly lightheaded, and at once Connor reached out and took my hand to steady me. “You okay?” he murmured.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Just sitting in one place for too long.”

“The dizziness will pass,” my father said. “But let Connor help you out to the car to be safe.”

That remark made Connor frown a little, although he didn’t say anything. I thanked Lawrence for helping me with the meditation, and gave my father a quick, awkward hug before Connor and I went out to the car and headed for home. All in all, I thought it had gone very well, strange dizziness or no, but I could tell Connor wasn’t feeling quite so optimistic.

“I’m not sure if I like it,” he told me, almost as soon as I shut the car door.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I was sitting motionless in one place for almost an hour. I don’t think it’s so strange that I felt a little lightheaded. It’s gone now.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.” And it was no more than truth. I did feel fine…now. Of course, I also knew that even if I didn’t feel fine, I’d still keep practicing the meditation. I needed to be prepared.

After all, I really didn’t have a choice.

T
he doctor’s
appointment went just fine, though, with Dr. Ruiz saying that everything was moving along right on schedule. The babies’ hearts were beating nice and strong, and I’d put on seven pounds, which relieved her somewhat. “Make sure you keep that up,” she told me. “Not that I want you to sit down and eat a pint of ice cream at a time, but don’t worry about having too many carbs or whatever.”

I could tell she thought I must have been someone who watched her weight pretty carefully, considering how slender I’d been when I got pregnant. Maybe my comment about having a fast metabolism hadn’t really sunk in. Anyway, I was relieved that at least I had begun to gain some weight, and everything else seemed fine, so that relieved some of my worry. Some.

They made my next appointment for June 30
th
, and Connor and I exchanged a significant glance. Either everything would be settled by then…or it wouldn’t. Hard to believe that the solstice was now only ten days away.

We didn’t go back to the house immediately, but rather headed over to the apartment. Connor’s cousin Mason was interested in taking it over, as the lease on her own loft downtown was about to end. She’d just been accepted into a master’s program at Northern Pines and preferred to stay in the downtown area if she could swing it, and Connor and I both thought she’d be a great tenant.

“At least you wouldn’t have to worry about her having blow-out frat parties here the way you might with some of your guy cousins,” I’d remarked upon hearing she was interested in the place, and Connor agreed.

“Yeah, some of my cousins would have a great time trashing this place…or at least they would if they weren’t worried about pissing off the
primus
,” he said. “But I’m going to be a big old sexist and say that I’d much rather have a woman renting the apartment, so if Mason thinks it’ll work for her, then it’s hers.”

Judging by the expression on her face as she looked the apartment over, I got the feeling she thought it would definitely “work for her.”

“And the timing is perfect, because my current lease will be up on July 1
st
, and I haven’t had any luck finding a place I like.”

“Great,” Connor said. “We’ve already gotten most of our stuff out of here, but we’ll make sure it’s cleared out, and I’ll have my cleaning crew come in to really get into the corners.”

“It’s perfect,” she replied, dark eyes shining as she looked around again. “So much nicer than where I am now.”

“And the rent’s okay?” he asked. He’d told me he felt funny charging anything at all, but I’d said he should ask for some kind of rent, even if doing so went against his familial instincts. Paying for something tended to make people take better care of it.

Mason laughed. “Are you kidding? You should be charging double what you’re asking, and you know it. Not that I’m going to argue,” she added hastily.

“No worries.” He glanced over at me, then said, “Since we’re here, I’m going to run next door and grab a few more supplies. Just give me a couple of minutes.”

“Sure,” I replied. Although he’d cleared out a lot of his stuff from the studio next door, there were always odds and ends left over. Since we were here anyway, it made sense for him to get what he could.

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