Midnight Ruling (11 page)

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Authors: E.M. MacCallum

BOOK: Midnight Ruling
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Together, we gripped the handle and quickened our steps between the rows of tombstones.

I noticed Aidan was careful not to step on a grave. If I drew too close, he’d tug the umbrella and veer me away. I wanted to ask if he was superstitious but decided against it. Silence was comfortable right now. I’d rather that than a discussion on what was next.

My soaked sneakers had stiffened my toes with a chill by the time we reached the flat, shiny plate in the ground.

No flowers, solar lights, or gifts decorated the edges. One might’ve thought she’d been forgotten.

Neive Eleanor Fuller

Taken too soon.

I frowned. I wasn’t allowed to attend the official funeral but had visited once a year until I’d reached high school. Mom still came here, usually alone.

The thought of her still being mad at me made my heart twist.

Aidan dropped to his haunches, forcing me to follow.

I reached into my pocket for the Swiss Army Knife and used it to cut away at the grass until dirt blackened the blade. The rain made it easy to dig.

It may seem strange, but sinking my fingers into the moist ground gave me the creeps. I consciously knew that there was no body beneath my feet, but that didn’t stop my imagination. Dirt lodged beneath my nails, filling them, and I thought of worms.

Cursing my imagination, I scooped out the first pitiful handful and dropped it into the container. I’d managed two handfuls when Aidan patted my shoulder. I looked up to see him squinting in the direction of the car. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw headlights. The slow vehicle illuminated the station wagon. I knew we couldn’t be seen way out here, but I wondered if we’d been followed after all.

The vehicle didn’t stop; it drove around Aidan’s car, and we both breathed, shoulders dropping at the same time.

“Let’s go,” I said, barely audible over the rain.

Aidan nodded.

Glancing at the letters on the plate one last time, I felt the urge to apologize. Not that there was anything to apologize for. It was an empty grave. It wasn’t her, just her name.

Wiping my hand on the wet grass, I freed most of the larger chunks of muck but gained grass clippings instead. Oh well, it wasn’t like I needed clean hands anyway.

Together we exited the cemetery as quickly as our soaked feet would carry us.

Dropping into the car, I could feel water squish between my toes and wiped my dirty hand on my jeans.

Aidan started the car and glanced at the container and me before putting the car in
drive
.

During those long fifteen minutes, we kept to our silence. My chilled hands were drying and becoming gritty, but Aidan reached over and held one anyway. It was a comfort I couldn’t afford to lose, and I squeezed his hand. Still we didn’t speak, our thoughts readying us.

We drove to the perfect place when it came to privacy. It was just south of Aidan’s grandpa’s house and off the highway. Aidan had said that the car wouldn’t be far once we came back with our friends. I was happy he said
when
and not
if
.

The clearing was oval. Aidan had said it was a camping spot once. He and his folks used it whenever they were around for the summer. It didn’t appear as if they’d been camping for a long time. The overgrown grass disguised any sign of a fire pit, and hopeful saplings sprouted to fill the space.

Wading through the tall grass, gripping our shared umbrella, we stopped in mid-step as thunder vibrated the air around us and lightening cracked across the sky. For an instant, the night was as clear as day.

Fortunately, the hail had stopped, but the wind had picked up. It ripped through my clothes, making my skin numb and bones stiff.

Aidan dropped the backpack of supplies on the ground and checked his cell phone to count down the seconds to midnight.

He appeared much calmer than I felt. I hopped from foot to foot, adjusting my grip on the black book and checking my raincoat pocket for the hundredth time to make sure the Swiss army knife hadn’t run off.

I listened to the rain instead of my thoughts, which was harder than you’d think.

“Now,” Aidan said gravely.

Our eyes met in a silent exchange.
Be strong, no doubts, we were in this together.
In that moment, I wanted to kiss him, just once before all this could change, but I pulled out the pocketknife instead.

Kneeling together in the wet grass, Aidan and I faced each other. He held his large umbrella over us with one hand and the dirty margarine container in the other. I opened the black book with shaky, cold fingers that were getting harder to bend and cleared my throat. “Here goes,” I warned him.

I placed my hand between our knees. “Earth.”

Aidan mimicked me, dropping the umbrella as I said, “I give you mud from a bodiless grave.” The book just said ingredient one, so I assumed in Nell’s time it meant Neive; for us, it was much simpler. Neive, according to the book, would allow access to the demon while our version could have us sucked into the Grave.

Aidan took the margarine container and sprinkled it over our hands. It was even colder against my skin, and I thought of worms again.

Tossing the container to the side, Aidan plucked a strand of my hair from my head.

With my free hand, I jerked one from his, seeing him flinch. I gave him an apologetic grimace and said, “Hair and blood.”

We dropped the hairs simultaneously, and I had to use my teeth to pull the blade out. We weren’t supposed to move our right hands from the earth at all, according to the black book. I wish this version of the spell had a fire like the one to access the demon. Right now, a fire would have been nice.

Holding the knife in my hand, I glanced at Aidan uncertainly. I wasn’t an expert in this; I didn’t know how to prick his finger or cut his hand without it being a bother later.

Seeing me hesitate, he held up his ring finger. Locking eyes with me, he pressed it to the tip of the blade.

I didn’t ease back, gritting my teeth, knowing it was going to hurt him. With a hiss, he pulled back and inspected the cut.

“You’re turn,” he said.

Swallowing hard, I prepared myself as he took the pocketknife from my shaking hand. He kept his eyes on me and nodded. “You don’t…”

Before he could finish, I held up my hand and pressed my middle finger to the tip. It was sharp; I could feel that before it snapped through flesh.

I gasped at the acute pain.
Such a wuss
, I thought. Wrenching back, I glanced at my finger. A small droplet of my blood had surfaced in the cut, which was much smaller than Aidan’s. He had to twist his wrist just to keep any blood from falling.

He struggled with the safety to bring the blade back down, but his bloodied fingers kept slipping.

“Forget it. Put it in your lap,” I whispered, hoping my voice wouldn’t disrupt whatever we were magically disturbing—if we were at all. I didn’t feel anything different.

“With these sacrifices, we invoke a rift to the Demon’s Grave,” I finished.

We held our free hands over our buried ones until blood dripped free.

Staring at the dirt over our hands, we waited. The seconds ticked by like minutes and we looked around, afraid to move.

“Did we do something wrong?” Aidan finally asked the stillness.

We exchanged a puzzled look. He held out his bloodied hand for the black book and flipped awkwardly through the pages using his thumb.

I picked up the flashlight to help him see. Neither of us moved our hands from the dirt. “Maybe this is the wrong spell?”

Rain came down in globs, splattering the pages and I feared for the ink.

“Or we need a fire,” Aidan suggested gently.

“Maybe she didn’t write everything down.” I sighed, deflated.

Aidan’s eyes wandered past me in thought. “Maybe,” he said cautiously, “we should start a fire now?”

“With what? Wet wood?”

“Maybe there’s something dry in the trees. We have to try, Nora. We can’t just leave now.”

A small part of me had been relieved when nothing had happened, but that’s not what we came for. “You’re right,” I said softly. “Let’s go see if we can find anything in the trees.”

Aidan wiped his bloodied hand in the wet grass. “Besides, that Midnight Ruling almost seemed too easy. Didn’t it?”

I nodded, having thought of that when I had first read it. “Anyone would be able to do this,” I agreed and started to gather the grave dirt back into the margarine container.

I felt the vibrations through my kneecaps first, then my toes. Gasping, I stood up so suddenly my head spun. “Aidan,” I breathed. The ground beneath us
moved
. I’d never felt anything like it in my life.

My entire foundation rocked, overwhelming me with a piercing sensation of helplessness. What would stop it from opening up and swallowing me whole?

Aidan staggered to his feet and reached for me, but his aim was off and he missed.

Thunder boomed, and I felt it rumble through my chest, shaking my heart and lungs. The scream I’d built up disappeared, and I slapped my palms over my ears, feeling the mud squish against the side of my head.

The second thunderous eruption filled the night with streaks of lightening that lit Aidan’s wet, scared expression.

Aidan was looking past me, one arm out as if to usher me behind him.

Twisting, I scanned the trees for movement, legs bent to keep my balance as the ground continued to make me feel useless.

People stood just within the trees, and I realized we’d dropped the Swiss army knife in the long grass.

It was becoming harder to stand straight as the shadows shambled toward the clearing.

Aidan backed up, grabbing my arm and taking me with him.

My eyes searched the ground desperately for a glimmer of the knife.

The roar above our heads began to sound like a word, just one.


Mine
.”

I didn’t look up for long. I saw a flash of light from the trees and realized the darkened figures had a flashlight. Was it something from the Grave coming to get us?

The sweeping flashlight drew across the grass, and I saw a glimmer of hope, or rather, of steel.

Skirting around Aidan, he tried to grab at me as I dove at the ground for the knife.

My knees slammed into the muddy grass. I flopped onto my stomach to snatch the Swiss army knife before the shadowy intruders could cave in on me.

A flash of lightning almost revealed the shadows. There were three human-shaped things, though the larger shadow trailed after them, as if they were connected to the tree line.

The first figure raised a thick arm to shield itself from the shock of the lightning flash.

I thought I heard Aidan’s voice behind me, and I managed to get my feet beneath me.

Twisting to grab Aidan, I realized in my desperation that I didn’t want to fall into the blackness alone.

But I didn’t fall into darkness as I had expected.

I managed to turn just as thunder erupted so loud I felt every organ in my body jump, and the entire world went white.

I felt a heavy pressure in my torso, enough to throw me back. Luckily, long grass and soft earth made it an easy fall.

I raised my arms to shield my face, and static bolted through my hair and skin, prickling every pore. The pressure in my chest made me realize that I didn’t feel the ground beneath me anymore.

All this happened in less than a fraction of a second but felt longer.

I knew I was screaming only because my throat was aching, but I couldn’t hear myself.

The white blinding light disappeared, and it took me several seconds to blink away the prancing dots before my vision. Aidan wasn’t there.

My ears were ringing, but I could hear faint shouting.

I looked left and right as the panic sunk greedy claws into me. “Aidan?!”

He wasn’t in the clearing. He wasn’t anywhere.

Where he’d been standing, tendrils of scattering smoke accompanied a black charred circle.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

The smoke was brief, losing a battle with the rain.

Still gripping the Swiss army knife, I realized it was a miracle I hadn’t stabbed myself in the fall. I stared at the empty space where Aidan had been and tried to speak when…

“Jesus Christ,” a voice erupted.

The rain began to fall heavier than before, splattering my face and making it hard to see.

A girl shrieked, and I saw movement running back into the tree line. Was I in the Grave? Did it work?

Standing on shaky legs, I called out, “Aidan?”

Maybe he’d been thrown in another direction. Maybe he’d been hit by lightning. The thought made my insides recoil.

Feeling light-headed, I forced myself to approach the darkened spot where the rain hissed and sizzled on orange embers. Rain drenched my clothes and dripped through my hair and down my face.

How far could it have flung him?

“Aidan!” I shouted, seeing his backpack still on the ground.

Where is his flashlight?

“What the hell is going on?” I heard a male voice shouting behind me.

I ignored it. I needed to find Aidan first. We needed to do this together; we promised each other.

I hunkered down against the rain and called his name over and over, trying to patch the thin hole of anxiety. I wasn’t hearing
his
voice.

A hand clamped onto my shoulder.

Without thinking, I ducked and turned, brandishing the knife in a blind swing.

The intruder grabbed my elbow and twisted my arm behind my back so quickly I shrieked. Trying to lean forward, I stopped struggling to reduce the pain that rocketed through my shoulder.

“Where’s Aidan? Where did you take him?” I shouted.

“What?” the voice asked, and it was then that I recognized it.

“Where’s Aidan?” I shouted and squirmed, but my shoulder felt intent on popping out of its socket. “Let me go! We have to find him, Cooper!”

He let me go after a moment’s hesitation and stepped back. “Didn’t you see?”

Freed, I dove into the trees. Feeling with my hands so not to crash into an unseeing branch, I tried to find evidence of him, of the Grave, of even Damien.

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